Oh, fie on he who would his Mom deny
ANd let a page of time go slowly by,
And say he did not know.
Who'd watched his heart untouched as she declined
Hearing the ruthless ticks of time,
Bringing her low
And shed no tear nor write no post,
Watching our Mom become a ghost!
It cries for you, who loves he rmost
To save her now.


Malathion Whimnsey III
Herbal Decoction and Lines
Roman Attention Press 1866