Ode to John Thornton
I know that I shall nevah see
A man more handsome, stand close to me
A face that launched a thousand sighs
For him there’ll be no long good-byes
Well-dressed and sleek in his top hat
And time stands still with that cravat
The high-collared shirt, and coat and vest
A gentleman near me, that looks his best
And in his face of eyes so blue
You inhale sharply, when he looks at you
A man of stature, proud and tall
The voice, the hands, he has “it” all
He respects, admires and loves his Mother
But his unspent passion loves another
I think I’ll melt if he moves my way
What will I do, what will I say
Can I be the one that he’s looking for
My heart will leap and my lust will soar
He’s yearning, searching for his love to be
Look back, look back, look back at me
He turns around and we’re eye to eye
For his love of me, I’d surely die
A majestic vision adorned in black
Can’t wait to get him in the sack (lol)
Oh darn, it’s just another fantasy
Of he and I, oh, silly me
A John Thornton Read
There once was a nice little woman
Who sat ’round all day on her cushion
Drifting back through the ages
She could only turn pages
of Bronte and Gaskell and Austen
She would twirl her curls as she read
With gentlemen swirling her head
And then she met John
She drooled until dawn
Then decided to take him to bed
The story of Milton unfolded
A man of her heart had been molded
She stayed up all night
Her window now light
But for him, she’d never be scolded
What a handsome gentleman was he
All the town women wanted to be
His lady of choice
But then heard his voice
And swooned away til there was just me
I’d been at the back of the line
He winked and gave me a sign
He turned on his charms
And opened his arms
Saying, “Come hither, you’ve got to be mine
I could feel my heart running a race
Until someone started licking my face
The dog wanted food
I didn’t get screwed
I woke before we got to first base
Disappointed, I knew I’d been dreaming
But inside was secretly beaming
I went back bed
With John in my head
And woke to the windows gone steaming
John Thornton’s Valentine
I come to find she has a brother
There never was another lover
In my heart, where she doth dwell
It is up to me, to know her well
I understood she was a southern lass
Now separated in to a different class
But still within me there is one more fight
So I must prepare to complete it right.
I fight for me and her love for me
My life’s fulfillment recides with she
I n’er could fathom her particular past
I shall seek Helstone for I never had asked
I ride the train to her southern world
Watching pastures, flowers and genteel unfurl
I walk the roads and meet smiling faces
I see the sun in nearly all the places
It was a very different world of course
How depressing, when she met my north
No longer, I query her attitude
For surely to her, I was quite rude
While walking across a grassy field
A yellow rose bush still held it’s yield
I pulled a bud and smelled it’s scent
Twas Margaret’s place and home I went.
Upon the train I studied the rose
Telling it of my terrible woes
It felt alive in my hand, you see
I talked about her, me and we
The train was slowing for another stop
With all the passengers making a swap
A man got off leaving the door ajar
And I thought to myself, “There you are”
How strange that was, this could never be
But it seemed as though she were looking at me
I was drawn toward this walking dream
While the train still hissed it’s noisy steam
I thought my heart would leave my chest
In her green, I saw Margaret dressed
It was really her and she waited for me
My passion unlocked, there stood the key
We sat, I listed to her words so grand
Against propriety, I took her hand
She accepted what I was trying to convey
In my own Northern Gentleman way
She lifted my hand up to her beautiful lips
Nothing, that moment could this every eclipse
I knew in that moment that she would be mine.
My lovliest, dearest, Valentine.
Christmas Time in Milton
Twas the night before Christmas, on Milton it fell.
The machines were all down, their workday went well.
The Holiday had started, forgetting their plight.
Workers were singing, as they walked home that night.
At night, they went sleeping, snug in their straw beds,
while visions of meat, food, and pudding, danced in their heads.
And Mother in her kerchief, and nude I still sleep.
I count the women, forget them fool sheep.
When out of a dream sleep, I awoke in my bed.
A vision of Miss Margaret, that female, I dread.
I walked to the window, I stared at the snow.
Once mad at that woman, I’d forgotten, Why so?
She had seen me at work, in my cotton domain.
I shouted at workers, calling out someone’s name.
I ran after the worker, while he tried hide his pipe.
I held him by collar, and gave him a swipe.
Still at the window, I saw Margaret Hale
A vision exquisite, waiting under the veil
When what to my wandering mind did appear
I knew I did love her, but she was not here
My passion now seething, I had been alone
My heart will be broken, for her it be known.
I gazed from the moon, to the glistening snow,
I thought this is Christmas, I feel I must go.”
I rallied at midnight and dressed myself nice.
I bundled real warm, against the snow and the ice.
I noticed that the driver, of the train that I caught,
looked like Father Christmas, with pink cheeks, I thought.
The train left on time with its bell and its smoke.
I knew the driver must be some happy old bloke.
By the time I found London, near broke was the dawn,
with horses and driver, a sleigh would be drawn.
“I say, aren’t you the driver I had on the train?”
He said nothing to me, but ruffled his rein.
He called me by John, before a word could be said
“It’s a bit too early, we’ll ride ‘round here instead.”
I fell back in my seat, as our sleigh took to flight
I marveled and mumbled looking left and then right
“Where are you taking me? And what is your task?”
“I am giving you a gift for which you have asked.”
“Bloody hell, and tomfoolery, no gift do I need.
Take me down now, with your sleigh and your steed.”
“I think you were headed for a home in this city.”
“You daren’t know where, and that t’is a pity.”
The bright lights came rushing, as the horses, they dove
Rooftops were nearing, but to a doorway, he drove.
I thanked him; stepped out, still shaking from cold
“The house on the left, and Merry Christmas behold!”
I stood and I watched, as he flew out of sight
What a curious old man, and what a great night.
Dauntless was I, as I rapped on the door’
Margaret knew not, the broken heart that I wore’
She gasped as she saw me, covering her mouth
“I just thought I’d visit on my way to the south.”
“Please. Come in, get warm,” she said with a sigh.
As I watched a small tear fall from her eye.
“Merry Christmas, Miss Hale,” I said holding my hat.
“Perhaps I’m intruding: I can easily come back.”
“Oh no, you are here. I have longed for this meet.”
“I am here all alone, please do take a seat.”
“Where are my manners, your hat I must take.”
“I’ll take your coat, too.” Margaret started to shake.
“Sholto, the grandson, is who aunt sees this day.”
“I’m glad to see you, There’s an abundance to say.”
“Christmas is a day full of merriment and cheer.”
“Mine’s been quite sad, until you appeared.”
She sat down beside him, aware of his scent
Her heart started racing, next to this wonderful gent.
“One night looking heavenward I wished on a star.”
“John Thornton, I aspired, and now, here you are.”
“Odd you should say that, I awoke to you, too.”
“In my dreams and my arms – that’s when I knew.”
“I knew that I’ve loved you, when you turned me away.”
“In your own home; with complaints to convey.”
“How could you speak and still steal my soul?”
“I’ve wandered alone, and time took its toll.”
“John, I’ve never forgotten my words said in haste.”
“The words of rejection which I should have embraced.”
“My dear you were new, to these ways of the north,
“Our culture was strange, but you learned it henceforth.”
John pulled her to standing, while wrapping his arms
Around her warm body with all of its charms
He gazed at her face, then into her eyes
Kissing the tip of her nose, had started her sighs.
John held her quite close to his strong beating chest
And kissed her most deeply, and firmly he pressed.
Her breast and her breathing, both needed much more.
He’d wait for the day, until she wanted to soar.
“John, I dearly love you as you probably can see.”
“My passionate woman, will you come home with me?”
“This day will live forever as our perfect Christmas,
“But let us not talk for there is more I will kiss.”