In the spring of the year

 King David has chosen to stay home;

and who could blame him.

He has too long been a man of war,

sleeping rough with his men, out in the hills;

others could fight this battle.

His trusted general would do the job.

There are some tasks, however,

that he will do himself.

Like the woman,

beautiful in her nakedness,

recklessly taking her bath on the roof.

He made his enquiries, discovered her name

and issued the royal invitation.

She was not likely to refuse.

The bed was soft,

the woman, softer.

He told his soul

that he had chosen love over war;

and had almost convinced himself

that it was a righteous choice

when her inconvenient message came.

Proving more loyal than his monarch,

the cuckolded husband frustrates

the attempted cover-up;

receiving, as his reward, the honour

of a hero’s death.

It is all about power.

David had too long been a man of war,

sleeping rough with his men, out in the hills.

It was in the spring of the year.