Dear Liege, it seems
Katherine, your wife,
Cannot fulfil your dreams.
Arthur’s ex-wife
Brings only strife.
I fear the worst –
Your union’s cursed.
To Rome I’ll go
To share our woe,
And I dare hope
The blessed Pope
Will soon annul
Your marriage vow.
You’ll free your flower
From her dread tower
‘Ere Lenten roses
Make winter poesies.
© Gill Dunstan
All rights reserved
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