Gold Ring Poem by Martin Swords

Gold Ring

Rating: 5.0


The count was ten
And still he did not move
He lay beaten, badly, cold
Giving his life in the square ring
to win a purse of gold.

The count was ten
It could have been ten thousand
All that he ever had, was spent.






May 2004
Martin Swords

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Martin Swords

Martin Swords

Tiglin, Wicklow, Ireland
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