Take your white hands to reject this rook,
So your mind can feel mild relief
To compose your heart within this book.
No winds of jest will have any luck
From the bright meadow you leave,
So take your white hands to reject this rook.
Don’t be nervous to show your work,
Just don’t wind up like the rook that thief
Others’ hearts when you compose this book.
Your heart will bloom with the bud you took
From the red flower you always weave,
So take your white hands to reject this rook.
If you glare at him, he’ll make you croak
With all his schemes to deceive
Your heart to not compose this book.
So don’t be incompetent, like a fork.
But see the blessings you achieve,
When your white hands rejected this rook
And therefore, your heart composed this book.
🤌