The maid employed a quiet, peasant man
who set about his work with fortitude
and finished all the chores within her plan
or planlessness, as whims her aptitude.
Yet, cheerfully without the first complain
he kept a smug contented attitude.
Then, came the day that squeamish boys disdain.
She showed affection asking for a dish,
replying he, as never quite so plain.
Outholding pitcher with a sly flourish,
he bowed, and smiled in answer, “As you wish.”
(Written for A Form for All at DversePoets, a terza rima sonnet. A bit whimsical, but I felt the need to write something! )