Here lies William Percival Roberts
How he longs to rest in peace
Interred beside spouse Helena
Under soils piled 6 feet deep
In life he tolerated
the sharp, grating pitch of her voice,
her indifferent manner, her coldness.
So far from being his first choice.
A mere six plots down lies Kitty
With her sweet laugh and long auburn locks,
Humility, kindness, a radiant smile.
Such an unassuming fox
Head-first was the manner of his falling
As she’d skipped past him, up Gantling Walk.
He’d longed for a reason to meet her,
An excuse to approach her and talk.
She’d smile at him and often
but he wasn’t the bravest of sorts
His courage proving elusive
while she remained constant in his thoughts
The opportunity never presented itself
The fountain of his hope up and dried
In the meantime, unbeknownst to him,
his parents had selected a bride
of good social standing, a family friend
A coupling of which they’d be proud
They had nothing but money in common
He found her too bossy and loud
He endured the sentence of his marriage
His solitary means of escape
Those nightly dreams, meeting under the trees
his sweet Kitty with her perfect face
He could never break free of Helena,
the sad marriage in it’s sanctity
Now he sleeps in the arms of the wrong woman
for all eternity
Poetry for Dullards 