What she did so long ago, Or didn’t do, we now don’t know. She tripped some dudes and others who With twisted true-false love were bled. By some stone of one marked dead she stopped When all that no one knows of her was through.
Linked to dVerse Poetics where Laura Bloomsbury offers the challenge to imagine the life of a deceased person. I imagined the lady in Longfellow’s In the Churchyard at Cambridge.

Longfellow’s lady tripped you too perhaps?!- I like
“By some stone of one marked dead she stopped”
LikeLiked by 2 people
I was trying to catch the mood set by Longfellow, but I could only think of one stanza. Thank you, Laura!
LikeLike
Bravely, you suggest the deceased was no saint. That seems to be what’s left out of eulogies and chiseled into tombstones…Jack Pratt was an asshole, and no one misses him.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Jack Pratt probably didn’t write that tombstone, but he probably doesn’t care. Thank you, Glenn!
LikeLike
Love the wording in this, Frank!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Sascha!
LikeLiked by 1 person
🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Everyone is a Saint nowadays, a legend, an absolute treasure. Where do all the real people go when they die?
LikeLiked by 3 people
Don’t know. Thank you, Peter!
LikeLiked by 1 person
kaykuala
She tripped some dudes and others who
With twisted true-false love were bled
One can hoodwink surreptitiously but something undeserving will eventually be known to those around
Hank
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you, Hank!
LikeLike
That true-false love catches up after awhile! Good job Frank!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Dwight!
LikeLiked by 1 person
The anonymity of the character makes it more intriguing…
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you, Reena!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I like that last line. How can we ever really know? But what we don’t know is lost to time. (K)
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you, Kerfe!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Those who do know keep quiet. No one speaks ill of the dead, much less writes it on tablets of stone. You never know…
LikeLiked by 2 people
One never knows. Thank you, Jane!
LikeLike
🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
The lady doesn’t sound much like a lady!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I really don’t know. Anything might have happened. Thank you!
LikeLike
I think it’s great to present her as she was… with some faults she sounds very human.
LikeLiked by 1 person
We all have faults. Thank you, Bjorn!
LikeLike
a sassy poem to the unknown .. like it!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Kate!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Puzzle
Yet Solved
Graves Return Bones
Smiles Frank Happy June
i turned 60 iN A Tropical
Storm
And
Word Press
Flood of Snafu’s…:)
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you, Fred!
LikeLiked by 1 person
😁
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thoroughly drawn into the meter and rhyme of your lovely poem. Nice.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Misky!
LikeLike
“With twisted true-false love were bled” is such a brilliant line. The whole poem feels so honest. Thank you for the read
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you!
LikeLike