Tales of a Poor Poge by Richard Palmer - HTML preview

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KATHY

 

Soft cries and whispers in the night

Art thou, O Lady,
And the quick murmuring of love’s heat.

An impassioned wonder,
A flame from which love unfolds.

May Life so grace this truth of you and me

That when of time our joy can no longer be

We may rise again and together
Ride on mystical wings in eternity.
And thus our brief fable ends.

In a whimper.
Thus it ends.
In hollow courtesies shared
By lovers become strangers.
Come swiftly, my pain, and
Free me in your fires.
For again I am alone
And again the path is unknowable.