Henry Treece

(22 December 1911 – 10 June 1966 / Wednesbury, Staffordshire)

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Poem - Ii

Death walks through the mind's dark woods,
Beautiful as aconite,
A lily-flower in his pale hand
And eyes like moonstones burning bright.

Love walks down heart's corridors
Singing for a crust of bread
All the tales of laughing youth
Who tomorrow will lie dead.

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