The Bonny Man, or For Richard

[smokingboot]

FOR RICHARD
Be you as sweet as your face, bonny man?
Be you as sweet as your face?
Soft the white roses that shower on your bones
Some speak of mercy and some speak of thrones
prayers of respect and of grace
But be you as sweet as your face, bonny man?
Be you as sweet as your face?

Be you as sweet as your face, bonny man?
Pensive and gentle and wise?
Bloody the bruises that weep on your hands
Red and white thorns torn deep through the lands
Murder behind those mild eyes?
Be you as sweet as your face, bonny man?
Long past the telling of lies?

Dreams cannot harm the long dead, bonny man
Woven their tales round your hall
Lost as your horse on the marsh raddled ground
Fierce as a boar while the long blades surround
Nine to the head end it all
Dreams cannot harm the long dead, bonny man,
soothed by the flowers in your pall

Whatever was done
By setting of sun
No more can they hurt thee, at all.



Well, this is pretty mediocre really, Richard undoubtedly deserves better, but I wanted to get something finished before he is interred at Leicester. It's like having a thick grey paste between my thoughts and the edge of my skull. Annoyed with myself. Whoever heard of a cold that stops you thinking?