What means this text before me?
She says she loves another.
That signs were made
And hopes were laid,
That I would soon discover.
Her print like fine embroidery,
In sloping hand and sure.
(If this be jest
T'is not her best)
What more must I endure?
A final line of trumpery,
Though telling of the age-
"Our hearts can mend
Do let's be friends".
A waste of half a page.
MichaelStMark
Pro That's fantastic, cheers :-D
I've been very remiss in not visiting this blog sooner. I am currently recruiting for a comic verse group blog. You are invited of course.
My hip/rib connection problem is delaying things at the moment but I hope to get started next month.
best
Ian
As a great admirer of your truly genius poetry, Ian, I am flattered- to say the least. Sorry to hear about this hip/rib business. I wish for you a safe and speedy mending.
Best regards,
John
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A man of superb depth and vision more like. Your poetry is of extraordinary perception, expressed with subtle grace.
Really touching material John -and very enjoyable.
Michael