hitherto the crows enveloping the sky
and whereupon my zest for life decayed
were a trio of three- she, him and I

in the meadow grew hollyhock and rye
he catered to the grain, i to the flower
the roots began to shift and the rustling wind sigh

though beautiful, she was the apple of my eye
the flower paled in worth, my attention drew elsewhere
her voice was soft and musical; enamourment nigh

quiet was the night and little time did i bide
for death only lay dormant and life dreamt uncertain
so I offered her a walk, a moonlight stride

‘twas lovely until she dipped down, collapsed and cried
i, mortified, could not quell her despair
had he heard?; not a minute passed and ‘lone he arrived

her despair was my own and solace i could not find;
the hollyhock has long since died; i wish for no more
hitherto the crows enveloping the sky
were a trio of three- she, him and i