She’d searched for a man of impeccable breeding,
one sturdy and honest and kind most of all.
He might be quite handsome, but that was not vital;
just pleasant to look at and less short than tall.
She’d wanted a master, at least of his own life;
employed, somewhat healthy and quick with his wit.
He must be unmarried, she’d no taste for drama,
but as to experience, she cared a bit.
She’d looked for a partner, a ying for her yanging,
a fellow explorer and not a blind slug.
If he were no champion he’d still maybe suit her
but he should be strong without being a thug.
I warned her that I had but few of her fancies;
that I was more substitute than perfect match.
But she stretched her wants to encompass my failings,
determined to see if this fish was a catch.
We found I could fill one or two of her wishes,
but most would be left on the cutting room floor.
She found herself fond of a bad boy with manners.
I found myself blessed by her hand evermore.