by | Jul 19, 2009 | Poetry | 0 comments


Sport of the Mary Rose
Honey and almonds
on your breath.
Soft pink of shade
Flowering in profusion
An artist’s canvass
you would grace.
Though Henry wore
a golden crown
Your beauty was
in Nature found.
Vainglorious in death
in a tomb he lies
Within the heart
truth never dies.


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