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Click herewith Reltne
In dove grey velvet she stood in the door
a building storm in the high summer sky
another glance told her he hadn't come
no lad to catch her out with tales told wry
She wound her way upstairs to empty room
and fell on top the bed with angry sigh
as lightning flashed beyond the leaded pane
her well laid plans she watched the wind whisk by
'Twas once so easy to beguile and charm
a joy of time when she was young and spry
but years that passed have heightened her desire
for many things she might yet get to try
She wrapped her cloak of lonely tighter round her
the gnawing sense of weary to belie
tomorrow's sun would shine on other matters
tonight it was enough to simply cry
This poem was mentioned in the Archival Review thread, in a picking through Lit's archive of over 36,000 poems.
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