Poems
A LOVERS LAMENT
HOWEVER NOBLE BE,
THAT I BEING ME,
DUTILY FREED FROM THEE,
SUCUMBED TO LIE BENEATH,
THE TORSO OF HIM BEING HE,
THE ARCHING FRAME,
THE PASSION OF FIRE AFLAME,
BENEATH THE SUN BAKED SKY,
I LOVED, AND LAUGHED, AND
SIGHED. "OH WHY? "OH WHY?..
By Marie Staniforth