Poetry « The 'Original' Elizabeth Edwards' Blog

Ode to ‘A Rose for Miss Emily’

“Princess, princess, lying there upon the bed,

Next to your beloved Homer who is stone-cold dead.

What made you choose this wicked twist of fate,

When at long last you had found your one true ‘soul’ mate?

Was it the downfall of the sensibilities of the gentile South?

Or the cuckolding words that came from your Daddy’s mouth?

That unlocked the hinge deep within your mind,

Allowing you to ‘wed’ dear Homer for eternal time?

Did the lonelieness of your own fate madly drive you on

to keep Homer near your side, to forever sing your love song?

Princess, princess, lying there upon the bed,

One long, thin iron-gray strand of hair next to your beloved’s head.”