A Merry Widow Poem by Ian Bowen
A Merry Widow
From a pretty lace bed,
in the chamber
of a cosy widow, where old ornaments
dusted to death by the feathers of ostrich,
sit on polished shelves;
where a soldier in khaki, glares at me
from behind glass.
She comes out of the bathroom,
and turns his photo...
to 'about turn' and face
the lily patterned wall.
dusted to death by the feathers of ostrich, sit on polished shelves; where a soldier in khaki, glares at me from behind glass. nice poem in words makes it full
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/23/2024 2:34:29 AM # 1.0.0.1119
... & 'She comes out of the bathroom, and turns his photo... to 'about turn' and face the lily patterned wall.' Maybe: She comes out of the bathroom and turns his photo... 'about face' to view a lily patterned wall. A Merry Ian in his lily patterned view.... .