Bounded by the sense of disbeliefs <br />amid friendship or any- <br />the spurs of the moment queried <br />on the worn glittering gold ring; <br />The laughter giggles from within <br />as this my dear friend admitted <br />that it was not hers! ... <br />But it was off-handed by a kin or so <br />whose interest was the spectacle: <br />By the play of men it suddenly glittered <br />amid the joyful shouts and merries! <br />But, who could it be among them <br />or it just flew out off finger's reach? <br />It mattered not to who it may be <br />as the keen eyes shot at the ring <br />by the courtyard bounded by men. <br />Now, I see it worn by a naked finger <br />to her delight the venturer's cry <br />shut by the eyes of the beholder: <br />Why? , Ask not to me but hers, Sarah!<br /><br />Gil Gregorio<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-ring-not-her-own-but-hers/
