The child of greatest, we see
Can not seem to get over me
I left from the North
and now, henceforth
She chases so 'stealthily', me

The child so eagerly chased
Sad, loveless, o'er burdened with haste
This red headed lass
with -just- too much class
Not to caution the child toward chaste

~Zaila Tenor

Penned by my hand on Quensday, the 7th of Ios, in the year 468 MA.