Dawn

Such a doomed romance is there

between Sir Beard the coarse and old

and Lady Coffee, young and fair,

that steams quite hot 'till love runs cold.

He catches but a drop or two

as cosmic forces bring them near

and pass her gleaming, bitter dew

between her cup and lips she'll sear.

Yet faster she will out of sight

be drawn as cooling passion dies

and sad Sir Beard a vestige keep

between his bristles nestled deep

until night washes clean his prize

and yearns he for the morning light.