Mediaeval Service

[Delta40]

I have dugged deep and escavated the slithy toves like you said.
Ah but ye rank powerful strong, woman!
In the the rat and cockroach infested
hame of comfort I depend upon!
In my last respite before the wager of war cried upon those who march, I sought you out.
There stood you in slick sludge and scraped icy roads outside some questionable fort to ogle my state of affairs

as a last respite before our wager of war, I snatch you from those who would kill you.
Standing sound in slick sludge scrapped icy roads outside some questionable fort you watch my state of affairs
Swift passions breaks through the muslin with bosom so sharp they press through the hardiest mail
Inside moist well of woman and my arrogance of youth bubbled to the surface
We tangle like firm roots in this the world, even if though we must fight for it.

So her hand must touch all those waiting for her soothing croon.
Upon their wearisome return, she heals as only the indifferent can.
She’s the one to give her loyalty to me against any pig wranglers who get in her way.
you will have conjoined the pain of a tyme gone by which resonates.
oh how we men reconcile truth with fiction for our sanity.

Nobody is innocent or spared yet fate enable those to escape with souls for darning and mending.
She steals home through the heather to the vermin orchestra
who play her familiar sounds
and work her magical powers
Driving her to the her to a mystical sleep
in the deepest copse owned by all the kings men
Only I loved her first.

[Delta40]

Sorry folks, I screwed up the first one. This is what I meant to post.

I have dugged deep and escavated the slithy toves like you said.
Ah but ye rank powerful strong, woman!
In the the rat and cockroach infested
hame of comfort I depend upon!
In my last respite before the wager of war cried upon those who march, I sought you out.
There stood you in slick sludge and scraped icy roads
outside some questionable fort to ogle my state of affairs

Swift passions breaks through the muslin with bosom so sharp
they press through the hardiest mail
Inside moist well of woman and my arrogance of youth bubbled to the surface
We tangle like firm roots in this the world, even whence we must fight for it.
So her hand hast touched all those waiting for her soothing croon.
Care I not!
She heals as only the indifferent can.
She is the one to give her loyalty to me
against any pig wranglers who get in her way.
You will have conjoined the pain of a tyme gone by which resonates.
Oh how we men reconcile truth with fiction for our sanity.

Nobody is innocent or spared yet fate enables those
to escape with souls for darning and mending.
She steals home through the heather to the vermin orchestra
who play her familiar sounds
and work her magical powers
Driving her to a mystical sleep
in the deepest copse owned by all the kings men
Only I loved her first.

[~Sophia~]

I've read this poem several times. I don't quite understand it (I have a theory) and the truth is, I don't want to know because, I like my understanding of it. I haven't read the words "slithy tove" since Jabberwocky! I like this a lot.