Irony

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!