My Poor Mother's Lover

And so she died,
for love lent not its hand:
but lust decreed
that mindless time
should end—
That she should grow so mindful of the times
when lovers mate;
and she was only three:

and four...
and five...
and on till she was ten...

And still, he came:

For mother didn't see;
the gentle creeping
of his roving hand—
or heard the shriek
to,
"Stop it,
or I'll speak!"

...So on he roamed,
till on his journey's end,
his eyes fell mute:
his lips could hardly
shriek!
When she revealed the 'savior'
that she owned:

And put her mother's lover
fast asleep!