Her Robe Poem by Jerome Brooke

Her Robe



The concubine had dark tresses,
Her skin was soft.
Her robe was of blue; fine silk.
Torn at the side.

The warrior of the North gazed at her,
His hand in mail.
She touched his arm, and drew him near;
Warrior of the North.

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Jerome Brooke

Jerome Brooke

Evansville, Indiana
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