A Poem By SirPeterJamesdotcom.
Dedicated to his love, the Ladye Scarlett, a virtuous Woman.
(with extracts from Proverbs 31:10 – KJV).
That great and bold knight, Sir Peter James, did recline his corpus beneath a willow, whose branches did reach to water’s edge.
He journeyed, as he was won’t to do, into the concealed realms of his heart.
As he did so, whether wakened or in slumber, he knew not; his fair Ladye curtsied before him.
“Doth it please My Lord, to gaze upon Thy Layde, take her gently into Thine arms and commune with her”?
“Yea“ saith the Knight. “Enter my dreams, for surely Thou wilst hear the abundant thoughts I have of Thee My Queen”.
That great knight was wont to extol virtues of his Layde:
“Thou art truly a woman of virtue, My Layde Scarlett; Queen of all Albertinshire, Thy worth is beyond that of gold and precious gems.
My heart trusteth in thee that I have no need of spoil; Thou wilt do me good, not evil, all the days of my life.
Thou hast willingly sought that with which to make garments; setting thine hands to the spindle and distaff, from whence thou maketh garments of fine purple and weave the tapestries. Thou selleth thine wares to merchants, reaping a harvest of gain.
Thou art likened unto great merchants’ ships that bringeth thy food from lands afar; rising whilst it is yet night, thou feedeth thine household.
Thou art a woman, who with wisdom, purchaseth land, from her purse and proceedeth to plant a vineyard and trade with its fruits to the merchants.
Thou art a woman of strength, judicious in all thine dealings. Thy lamp is never snuffed, but burneth always. Thy tongue speaketh words of the law of kindness.
Thy knight sitteth at the gates, with elders of the land, where Thine honour and strength is extolled.
My Layde doth stretch her hands to the poor, yea; she reacheth her hands to the needy.
Thou looketh well to the ways of thine household and eateth not the bread of idleness.
Thy children rise up and call Thee blessed, Thy knight also, he praiseth Thee.
Many daughters have done virtuously, but thou excellest them all.
Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain: but my Layde, that feareth the Almighty One, she shall be praised.
That great knight rose from his slumber, his Layde had wisped away.
He mounteth his stead with a heart of much gladness, for surely his Layde hath brought forth great riches to his life.
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