London

They’ve come.
Because they heard,
Heard the great tale of my life.

But I’m not dead.
Wait for that,
I won’t be here to fix your changes.

Oh great steed,
All these years,
They weigh on you most.

My beloved – I am sorry.
I cannot remember everything,
But you were never out of sight.

Never out of my mind.
I have won all we set out for,
But I still have a wish.

That I’d loved and cared for you then, As I do now.
Perhaps then, you’d look at me with compassion.
Perhaps then, my beloved, I’d be yours.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2023

Poem

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