Hi, poetry lovers and love knowers.
By James Carroll Beckwith -Image in the Public Domain (Wikimedia Commons)
Thirteen Lines to the Unlucky lover
Every time I think of thee
I write these farcical verses.
Lovers’ chanting, forests green
are to please my poet’s tease.
But you love me not and never,
and the flower can dissever
what is tied by law and God,
for an alms is what she gets,
drops of water bits of sunlight,
for in darkly affection hidden,
living sweetnesses forbidden,
as her petals bloom in heathen
youth, she fades into old doom.
Thanks for reading poems.
Poem of my own, posted to my Steemit blog on August 2018.
Soy miembro de @talentclub.
