LordPeter List Literary Contest

Lament for Widow Weldon

There she sits and fights her fears.
Her fine lace kerchief damp with tears.
She longs for Paul to hold her near,
But silent whispers fill her ears.
       "Memento mori. That's your lot."
She knows not where her man, or why.
So as she wrings her kerchief dry.
She dreams of love that will not die.
       This Lady in our plot.

-- "Placet"

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