"Ink for sale! who wants ink? Black de luxe ink, come and buy it!"
       Called a cheery small boy as he sped through the alleyways.
 Next, a sharp pair of eyes alighted on me at my window;
       And like a jack-in-the box he bounded into the room.
"Laddie, were you invited?" -- "Sir, just try this sample!"
       Nimbly the youngster swung his canister round from his back.
Now the rents in his jacket parted a little to show me
       Half of the shoulder-blade, where a wing brightly shimmered.
"Good gracious, my lad, so you also have quill-pens for sale.
       Cupid, villain in hiding!  what if I plucked you this minute?"
Thus discovered, he smiled and raised a finger in warning:
       "Ssh! it's taxable goods -- so don't you go spoiling my business!
Pass your ink-stand, there's no charge today, and then we stay friends!"
       Having duly obliged, he slipped through the door and was gone. --
Fooled me he did, though, for now all my day-to-day jottings
       Promptly turn into love-letters, a full-scale erotikon.