In Praise of Groatbaggers

About this place conceived
in nights at the fair
and nurtured stealthily
by kisses

About this manor
shaped in groats
a Zaan style happiness
one can live in

I recite this poem

About the drawling ribbon
where horses trot
beer and families safely
behind iron bars
(grandiloquence is not good horsemanship)

You may come to love
that place of polder pelgrimage
painted in Zaan oils

That is if you do not confuse
your Spaniards and your chickens