Sentimental Song

A pad and pen lie by his side
This moonless night of fall.
And though he tries to hush his pride,
To only see the tears she cried,
His hands refuse to breach the wall,
A pithy line to scrawl.

His mind, in angst, replays the day
And sees the pain she felt.
For he had let a donkey's bray
Escape his lips without delay,
Not thinking of the pain it dealt
When he shot out his pelt.

Now deep regret besets his mind,
For what he did was wrong.
His hands relent and reach to find
The pad and pen they first declined
And penned for her, ten pages long,
A sentimental song.