~

Dear Mr. Browning, What did you get

by marrying Miss Elizabeth?

Was there any recompense, living in Florence?

That was my last love, too!    What a coincidence!

~

One hundred and forty seven years shall elide,

for your solo departure, sans your sweet lovely bride,

that would take you back to your London town –

long much before e’re I be around.

~

But I’m sure that Firenze has changed quite a bit

since you and your horses had roamed over it.

And I’m sure that you’ve thought of the time that it takes

to ride on a horse from Ghent to Aix.

~

I wonder if you saw Ferrara’s fortress,

where there hangs the portrait of ‘My Last Duchess’?

You must have also known Porphyria’s Lover?

What a shame for her; did he take another?

~

Oh, I shall leave you alone, and let you be;

go on!  go make your Eve ’round a red rose tree.

But, dear Mr. Browning, please pardon the pun —

the piper of Firenze was an Englishman.

~

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©Marvin Loyd Welborn 2011

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