David was a warrior,
A man of God, a king
'Twas of his feats in battle
The bards and minstrels sing

Yet within his iron make up
An aspect lay unspoken
A poet, a lover so tender
With passions yet unwoken

One sunset eve upon the roof
He strayed and dallied there
His friend Uriah's house next door
Held a wife so young and fair.

Cool her bath from heat of day
She drowsed upon cushions of silk
Her raven hair the only gown
To cover skin like milk

David saw and fell in love
His poet's voice forth burst
He didn't care that she was wed
Uriah, do your worst.

He thought of how his hand might rest
Upon that sweet, forbidden breast
When Evil's whispering, wicked breath
Encompassed poor Uriah's death.

Wed no more, a widow now
David's heart was on fire.
He promised all her dreams come true
Once he'd slaked his wild desire.

Bathsheba looked upon him
For he was passing fair
Uriah's years were a burden
Slowed steps and fading hair

She asked for rings of lapis
And distilled roses in perfume
And silken robes all peacock bright
To be put into her room.

She had her trove, now it was time
To balance the tipping scale
In nights of love and passion
And herein ends my tale