The Bard

The course of true love never does run smooth
So said the Bard in some vain effort to soothe
The ruffled feathers of young love’s pride
What he should have said was run and hide
But his words ring true across time’s divide
For an erstwhile creator of a virgin bride
Who meets an errant billionaire
And embarks on a passionate and doomed affair
I always scoffed and said “Oh pooh,
If they can write this drivel so can you!”
Well it’s a bloody sight harder I’ll have you know
They don’t put on all that sex for show
In between the standard grunt and shove
They still have to fall in love
Reveal their secrets, break their hearts
In under 5 000 words
It’s an art I tell you and I one I will hone
If I want a literary agent of my own
You can turn up your nose at old Mills and Boon
They still make over 4 million women swoon