Widow of the Well


From the road afar at some height

We witnessed a well with surroundings bare

Only some moss didn’t cover all the sight

The untouched well looked fairly rare

Covered ruin almost vanished

Hid a withered lady frail

Whilst approaching light became banished

Glooming the face lights up pail

For all those who have met

This woman gray

Remember the words she said

We too remember what she did say:

The lines of sorrow

Her features stirred by memories

She speaks with voice deep and hollow

Telling about greater glories

Telling about what didn’t last

She opens an old entry

To the land of her past

Bringing us away to another century

Her words are weaving;

See fields of grass withering

Trembling cheeks as of her grieving

Are tears glittering

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