The Matchmaker

She thought she'd found a Lancelot
For her little Guinevere...
She knew he had a heart of gold
And so she pushed him near.

His prayers were strong
And thoughts were chaste
He was truly like no other…
He looked into her tender heart
And at once he knew he loved her…

Her heart was frail
From too much pain
She clutched it close with care
She kenned she had no love to give
And so she cried a tear…

But she was never quite prepared
For his love or gentle ways
And so he tugged on her heart a bit
And said come spend some days…

The rest is all now history
You've read the tale, I'm sure
Of our beloved Lancelot
And his Guinevere demure…

Yes he sorely won her heart
With love and tender laughter…
Alas, the ending is none but this:
HAPPILY EVER AFTER!

Sharon Frye