Sitting on the table sadly,
She knew that she was in love badly.
She thought of him,
Lovingly she picked his golden rim.

In agony she wrote day and night,
By the sun and even the candle light.
She rarely slept on her bed,
His memories made her sad.

She was an author of worth and fame,
Among many she had a great name.
Her characters enjoyed romantic weddings,
With beautiful and happy endings.

Her life was an opposite of all,
Sadly giving irony a silent call.



© Pam-1710