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Below is the poem entitled Irony which was written by poet Albert Ahearn. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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The poplar trees stood like sentries
Standing on one leg in their green
Uniformed grandeur. Beyond their
Phalanx could be seen a stately
Manor whose imported marble
Pillars were more decorative
Than utile. Not unlike the sole
Inhabitant who lies dying
In his magnificent antique
Breton bed. He never married-
“I’m too busy for such nonsense.”
Consequently, no progeny,
No living relatives, no one
Only a dreadful eulogy:
Alone died a poor man, indeed!

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  1. Date: 1/23/2011 10:30:00 AM
    Yes, Irony it is!