Mary

The golden seal,
Like the one that loved her;
But Mary took another mate.
Of all the things that had been,
Upon the threshold of one's life;
Mary took another man.
Matched with an aged husband,
Matched with an old oven;
Mary married another person.
Like the spoil of war,
I have the sadness of a vale to uncover;
Like the days gone by.

I still remember those days,
With my white hair at bay;
like a narrow cave that runs beneath a cliff.
Mary married another man,
Over all the boundless plains of love;
But my will is my law.
Of Malvern's lonely nights with,
A crust of bread and rags;
he now lives beneath a tent of leaves;
Life is like that at times but,
I have to move on with my tears;
Like the spoil of war when, the war is over.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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