“He liked to rhyme
And was fond
Of women
And wine,
And sinning.
Now he has gone beyond
Women,
And wine,
And sinning.
And he is out of time
For rhyme”.
“He liked to rhyme
And was fond
Of women
And wine,
And sinning.
Now he has gone beyond
Women,
And wine,
And sinning.
And he is out of time
For rhyme”.
Beautiful infinite words. 🍷
Thank you, I’m pleased you like my poem. Best, Kevin
Now he is dust!
Thoughtful, Kevin. The rhymes end for us all eventually.
Thank you, Vivienne. They do indeed.
All the best, Kevin
Reblogged this on K Morris – Poet and commented:
I had the poet Ernest Christopher Dowson (one of the so-called Decadent Poets) in mind when I wrote this.