The Death Of Anna-Mae - Poem by Robert Mestre
This happened many years ago
in a town called Angels Bay,
That there took place the suicide,
Of broken hearted Anna-Mae.
This story starts as many have,
With a woman's dream of love,
And prayers to send her a shining prince,
Heaven sent from the Lord above.
Then one day she met Sir Thomas,
What a handsome sight was he,
Tall, and blonde, blue piercing eyes
that were staring back at she.
She knew right then he was the man
that would have her hand in marriage,
She pictured the ring, white dress, and church,
And the majestic horse drawn carriage.
The days to come were so filled with joy,
As they spent not one moment apart,
She loved him and he loved her back,
She had surrendered him her heart.
Then one day, he was called away,
A civil war had just begun,
He kissed her on the cheek and swore,
'I'll return', In the fading sun.
Months went by with still no word,
Her worries were turning to fear,
But then finally came a messenger,
This is what she did hear.
'Sir Thomas did fight valiantly
in the war against the South',
Already she knew the news was bad,
By the trembling of his mouth.
'He was shot ten days ago, and....
his life could not be saved.
He served the North most honorably,
there are few men so brave. '
She did not hear the rest he said,
Her body was suddenly numb,
The love of her life is dead, he said,
All she could do was run.
She must have run for at least a mile,
Before finally her legs gave way,
Sending her falling to the ground
cursing this horrible day.
'I cannot live without my love! ',
Was the only thought in her head,
'Life just serves no purpose now,
be better if I were dead. '
With that thought she looked around,
For the instrument of her demise,
Then suddenly the cliff above
was there before her eyes.
She climbed the hill as quickly
as her tired limbs would go,
Finally she had reached the top
with more cuts and bruises to show.
As she looked down upon the bay,
She whispered with calm and ease,
' My lover, I am coming now! '
Then leapt into the breeze.
Comments about The Death Of Anna-Mae by Robert Mestre
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You