The Ballad of Sally Hemings

Tom, oh Tom, what have you done?

Martha wished you’d not move on.

To never “wed” after she’s gone,

Now you’re alone, virile and young.

Sister Sally, so sublime.

A beauty born of the times.

With coffee skin, and Martha’s lines

Destiny’s concubine

Tom, oh Tom, you penned the prequal

That we are, “created equal”

Your dream shone upon its easel

Dimmed now by your living sequel.

Sister Sally, born apart

Her mother unlike Martha’s lot

Denied the half what Sister got

And no place in the family plot

Tom, oh Tom, quite the fella,

Surely Martha’s soul is jealous.

He needn’t wed at Monticello

to keep from singing acapella.