Ophelia's Last Words

Father dearest dead art thee

Soon shall I be there to see

As muddy Lady of the Lake

In this sad pond of flowered fen

I sing and sink from mortal ken

I breath and drink with croaking croons

Together are we sad buffoons

Tricked by tortuous treachery

Rather this than lechery

Beneath malicious moons

To dance seditious tunes

With open arms I reach to hold

As in my infant years  past

My father's ready steady grasp

Reviews

[Sel Whiteley]

Powerful, the rhyming couplets adding immeasurable strength to this mad, childlike rambling...as always your characterisation is superb, its been a joy to read this

[J]

Ahhhhhh, you've been holding out on me. This is divine, darlin. I'd like a taste of whatever it is you've been keeping to yourself ......

lovely work. ;-)

[J.P. Bristow]

this is stunningly beautiful !!!!!!!

[Gandré]

I like your getting classical and writing poem about poem...with different feathers. wonderful.


I loved Ophelia: forty thousand brothers

Could not, with all their quantity of love,

Make up my sum. --------I thought you would like this part.