Charlotte Mew

That the cream to the top of the milk rises is not saying anything that is new
One can say the same of poets and poetry good poets always in the few
Some poets works quickly fade from memory like sunlit Summer morning dew
But one poet one cannot say this of is the great London writer Charlotte Mew

Born in Bloomsbury in London back in eighteen sixty nine
Her poetry grew better as she aged like good wine
With many family tragedies she knew of a very sad life
Charlotte she never was anyone's wife

In nineteen twenty eight she died in her late fifties in a slow and painful way
By drinking of lysol but her legend lives on today
In her wonderful poetry she was a great poet
She will always remain as one worthy of literary note

Family tragedies on the mental health did take toll
Of Charlotte Mew a sensitive and talented woman with a poetic soul
She was one of those who had the bright inner glow
And in her great poetry her legend does grow.