Three Poems in an Emily D- Idiom

Three Poems in an Emily D- Idiom


It Was a Letter

Were they just stanzas in a book,
  Written by one long ago?
Her loving tones, her simple poems,
  Have wrapped me in her thrall

I wrote some rhymes in her response,
  In the diary I kept,
Then I engaged to turn her books’ page
  And look! She’s answered me!

A teenage crush? Young love’s hot flush?
  What timeless pen-pals we!
And when I write her, next page, there!
  She’s answered me, again!


I’d Not Heard 

I’d not heard from you in so long,
I’ve wrote to ask you what’s gone wrong?
  And you told me, naught did I do,
You asked I place the blame on you

You haven’t a new paramour,
Of reasons, you are not quite sure,
  You say in love, we must endure, 
Then close and lock me from your door

The paths laid by this bitterness,
Have cast me to spare wilderness,
  They will not lead back to your door,
Indifferent love,
  Distance my cure


I’ve Set the Words

I’ve set the words of life,
Each verse in it’s extremes,
  Of common birth, moments of mirth,
Of trials, crimes, and ease

Yet one I cannot write,
And may it be the worst,
  When death arrives by day or night,
End of all words, its curse

What dolt would pretense to pen
On death before it calls?
  No keyboard taps, no scratching pens,
Are heard behind its pall