The Merchant's Tale

Old January, wealthy knight,
Thought he’d wed to his delight,
He chose a bride so young and fair,
A maiden named May, with golden hair.

Oh, January, don't you see,
Young May’s not what she seems to be,
With plans so bold and tricks so sly,
This tale will leave you wondering why!

They married in a grand affair,
With food and wine beyond compare,
But January was old and blind,
While May had something else in mind.

Young Damian, a squire sweet,
Caught May’s eye, oh what a treat,
They whispered secrets, planned their game,
While January, none the wiser, lame.

In the garden lush and green,
May and Damian were oft seen,
They climbed a tree, the game was set,
For a tryst that none would soon forget.

Blinded knight, he stood below,
While May and Damian’s love did grow,
Suddenly his sight returned anew,
Caught them in the act, it’s true!

May cried out, a clever dame,
“It’s for your sight, I’m not to blame,
I wrestled with the squire so dear,
To bring your vision back, my dear!”

So if you wed a maiden young,
And think your life will be so sung,
Remember January’s tale of woe,
And be wary, lest your sight you throw!