By lettymay@earthlink.net
Date: 28 September 1999

blues

you were my north, my south, my east and my west,
my working week and my sunday best,
my moon, my midnight,my talk, my song:
i thought that love would last forever; i was wrong.

the stars are not wanted now, put every one:
pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods:
for nothing now can ever come to any good.