A Lady Whom I Was Fond Of

A poem of sorrow.

This is a story, of which I assure is quite true,

In a grove of flowers was a lady, whom I was fond of.

All year round, these flowers did bloom

Almost as if nourished by a feeling we call love,

And so it may come to no surprise, our feelings were true,

After all, there was heaven in her eyes, beauty greater than in heaven above.

You may see nothing in her, at which I find untrue,

For in her I see everything, this lady I was fond of.

Perhaps I am a bit haughty to presume

That our feelings were stronger than any other love,

Despite the minuscule chance this is true,

I look at the stars and find solace from up above.

To say all the angels in Heaven were jealous was true,
For she had all the qualities of perfection, this lady whom I was fond of.
But just as a flower dies in winter we were doomed

For she fell ill and nothing could save her, not even our love,

And on the day her eyes closed forever, I knew it to be true,

I died too that day and everyday after until I’d go to Heaven above.

We would be together in Heaven, at least I thought this true,
An alcoholic man with no ambition and a lady, whom I was fond of.
So it was in my sullen and dark gloom
I drank poison which filled my heart now empty without love,

And I sat quietly, praying that death would be true,

And slowly I slipped away, my soul going to the beyond up above.

Author's Note

An honest and constructive critique would greatly be appreciated.

Reviews

[Mike Wolfe]

Well done Justin. The story was smooth and the poem flowed well. Congrats on this write. Kinda reminded me of the Chant style poem with the second line repeating at the end. I enjoyed this. Very good

[Justin]

Thank you Mike, I am a huge fan of chant style poetry and tried to incorporate it into this poem. I am glad you enjoyed my writing and thank you for the review.