Our Last Quarrel Poem by Nellie Isabelle Steward Cooper
Our Last Quarrel
Strange that a smile
Should slide away like that
As though fallen from her face
That blue-bright eyes could change
Like that to grey-and draw their shutters
All before the paleness fell
And washed her into whiteness
Never our words could be unspoken now
Or taken back, nor this, the stricken hour
Be stricken from me
Nor any reach of heaven
Hold this hell
Stunning poem! ! ! 'eyes drawing their shutters'... very good image - there is a sense of melancholy which holds me to attention. Yuri *
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/16/2024 6:53:07 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Very well structured and a feel of sadness.... Very sadly penned.. Excellent write... Bonnie collins