Of Cabbages-and Kings

“As the years have gone along,

Our love it seems has risen and fallen

Like the chorus of a song,

Not sadly or coldly,

Nor badly nor boldly.”

“Not so,” says she.

“There was a time when it was clear,

When love and laughter,

Like sun and rapture,

Wrapped us in warmth and good cheer.”

“Not so much,” she says.

“But this is how it seems to me.”

“The love we have is what we’ve always had.

It’s not the love that’s changed;

It’s the lover.

Not the song but the singer.”

“How can you say that?

My love is part of me,

And thine of thee.

Our sharing is blending of these.”

“No,” says she.

“Love is greater than we.

It binds us to one melody.”

“For me, that cannot be.”

“Let us speak then of truth and other things

Of cabbages—and kings.”