Oh do not weep for me my love
Now I have met my fate
I only wish that you had known
Before it grew too late.
They were his words, the words you spoke,
His joys that lit your face-
One glance, and you became my soul,
My salvation your grace.
Oh do not mourn for me, my sweet
I’ve seen you as of late
In dim-lit rooms, curled on yourself
And weeping, without cease-
Don’t be like me, and let your dreams
To mist evaporate.
All that I ask of you’s to please
Hang roses on my gate.
The curtains cloud vague window eyes
Dull embers crowd the grate.
Leave everything to dust and dreams-
White roses on the gate.
Comments
BT Gorman | November 24, 2011 - 22:48
nice, but did u nick that from Christy Brown? not that I object to influential tendancies, most of mine is Sheamus Heaney clashing wiv Oscar Wilde!!lol.
Lem | November 25, 2011 - 10:56
Who's Christy Brown?
MistakenMagic | November 25, 2011 - 17:52
"I’ve seen you as of late
In dim-lit rooms, curled on yourself
And weeping, without cease"
- beautiful, haunting images, Lem. Great to see you posting on ABC again! I found time to post my latest piece in between essays - but the work is mounting up. At least I've got my literary criticism essay out of the way. Am I right in thinking it's French you're studying? I'm doing a module in Old French this year - Marie de France, Chretien de Troyes & co! Ah, I have rambled. But this is a delicate, ethereal piece - perfect for this wintry weather!
Magic xxx
Kahdai | December 16, 2011 - 19:48
Nice one Lem :)