Tender are the hooks of what might have beenthus with fond despair I do regale in them
Splendor of sadness and lighthearted regret
are the sustenance of hearts thus beset
Might the trappings of hope been false with allure
I grieve them with grace that I may endure
Thus I pray fair the imminence of death
shall spare you the pain of my dying breath
and think of me, as I thought of you when
Tender were the hooks which might have been.
© Charles Coakley Simpson 2010
Splendor of sadness and lighthearted regret
are the sustenance of hearts thus beset
Might the trappings of hope been false with allure
I grieve them with grace that I may endure
Thus I pray fair the imminence of death
shall spare you the pain of my dying breath
and think of me, as I thought of you when
Tender were the hooks which might have been.
© Charles Coakley Simpson 2010
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