In Memory Of Elizabeth Barrett Browning. Poem by Moses Ocharo

If only i could count the many a way
That your works have my sense stirred
Mend is my art 'cause you trury tarred
It with skills that genius did ever sway
And as i slowly turn this divine verses
To ease my heart's soul at their beauty
So to praise you hath my only due duty
Through time, as eternity 'em encompasses
Now as my budding style tries not to ape
Yours, and other musses' best thought lines
Engraft 'em with mine to give better shape
In hope that 'twilt raise my low confines
But one day i'd have to mine own scape
From my baldy brain, that me defines.