3dgchris

A Poet's Reverie Do you still sit under the plum tree? Watching the faces gaze At a face that is so similar to yours The journey through the mossy stairs is short And your days are numbered Yet you still have time to draw Your fanciful young dreams And make sure that your name Is writ not on water but on stone That mahogany bed embraces your soul In that simple English room of yours Still searching for your body A body, which boarded its deathly ship And a fatal fate that it could not escape Here in Hampstead No tears for you from Fanny Nor from your friend Brown Not even your immortal Nightingale weeps But in Rome where y