Page 3 of Scorched Corona


  Unnerving silence slices thick air

  For he knows he had not plucked the rose

  From a world unknown to him

  Withering him dry, the stroking palms,

  Her diamond jubilee now in the stars,

  A kinder graduation by a sudden blow

  And the monster now gone.

  Sirens called

  One ear, he listened heartily

  Fell 'gainst rusty bars of iron refuge

  Tasting the unjust perfume and cried.

 
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E.A. Bowen's Novels