Anne B.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Historical Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Inspired by the final hours of Anne Boleyn.

When good ones of Christ
On whom my true heart’s ebbed,
Will my plain cause love and weigh
On pure scales and light
Along with the vilest hurt laid
Down hard on my small neck,
Cannot a harsh word stay.
But as of his grace this day,
In this lord I will see gifts of love,
And then ask you to pray and soon
For my soul, that Jesus Christ will receive.
Now my white fingers tremble,
My preparations long have been.
My life! It is over and gone.
And my good name left in the ages.


Submitted: April 04, 2012

© Copyright 2022 delcons. All rights reserved.

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Comments

Rachy reg

delcons, I really like your poem, it's different to others I've read and I love history so it's win, win.
BTW if you're interested i've written a small narrative on the same subject as your poem, called 'it's strange the memories you keep' :)

PS. keep writing

Sun, June 23rd, 2013 5:44pm

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Poem / Historical Fiction