Poem - My Sweet Girl

A woman, fair, with silken hair,

as white as snow upon the ground,

with whom I shared a short affair,

last week, found herself to be drowned.



I was there with her when she died,

and saw the stream of bubbles end.

For days on end, I cried and cried,

and mourned my love, my dearest friend.



We had been walking by the shore,

my hand caressing her soft mane,

when that sweet girl, whom I adore,

did trip, and fall into the drain.



The poor, sweet girl, she couldn’t swim,

and I, alas, could not pursue,

for while her fate looked awf’lly grim,

that marine skill escaped me, too.



And now she’s dead, and buried, too,

her spirit far away from me.

I weep for her, this girl I knew

at her sepulcher by the sea.