Title/subject suggestion by Diana – at ‘the wandering Armadillo’


Puppet with tangled strings


That my voice and deeds were not my own

rendered plaything parts and myself a toy,

seemed fair price paid to be with you alone,

a ‘Lovely’ with an aspect so radiant and coy.

I danced to the tunes you chose to play,

like a puppet, twitching at your every word,

dangling on my strings I could only sway

yours the only voice that poor Punch heard.

 A marionette master, dark soul concealed

you had by means unknown bound my wings

and now that your spurious love is revealed

I am left a broken puppet with tangled strings.


      1. And you succeeded in a most triumphant fashion! But hold on for a moment, what’s this about “womanly wiles” – hopefully not all of your ladies have tangled your strings?

        Liked by 1 person

    1. Ha Ha ! ‘how politely put Mr D though the mind that creates the bawdy limericks on ‘Warp Thought’ in league with the sonnet writer on ‘voices’ would probably create a Frankenstein piece of prose. It’s a door to remain shut !

      Liked by 1 person

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