Of Cloves and Sadness

She smells of cloves and sadness
Of roses and dejection
What a peculiar scent she has.
She never smiles in pictures
Oh, but she smiles
Always half hearted
And marked with melancholy and mystery
Her coy looks and come hither glances
Draws the unsuspected in
Her world aflame with sadness and strife
All the world’s a pity.

Reviews

[duffin]

very old school nice