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Click hereOne of them showed me a ring that he had of your daughter for a monkey.
—The Merchant of Venice, III i
He had that ring of her before they wed.
Their loose daughter stole it, sped away.
Out of the country with her love, she fled.
He had that ring of her before they wed.
It was of special value. Leah's dead.
Was bartered for a pet, and daughter's play.
She gave that ring to him, before they wed.
The daughter stole it when she went astray.
I found the content and the tone of this poem very disturbing.
Unsurprisingly, it was just an echo to the foul contempt you find in the lowest play by the best of the dramatists.
Unsurprisingly it did not disturb anyone else to say so.
Like I was saying, so strong does the triolet run in your blood, its variant bursts through here;
Makes me wonder, how deliberate was it? If nothing else, you've got me watching all your words for patterns, even when no obvious triolet is present (I know - you do write poems totally without even a hint of the triolet pattern - seen it on the threads).