TRibute to a long dead poet for My friend Ben
One more unfortunate
weary of breath.
Rashly importunate
gone to her death.
Thomas Hood 1799-1845
Glosa
One more unfortunate
tired of strife.
Sad and disconsolate
flees now from life.
Weary of breath
She can no longer cope.
so chooses death.
Nothing for which to hope.
Rashly importunate
Impulsively
rushes to meet her fate
impatiently.
Gone to her death
in the waters below
she slips beneath
Why? We shall never know.
12-Feb-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Added by Poetry Lover
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