Charlotte Mew

That the cream to the top of the milk rises is not saying anything that is new One can say the same of poets and poetry good poets always in the few Some poets works quickly fade from memory like sunlit Summer morning dew But one poet one cannot say this of is the great London writer Charlotte Mew Born in Bloomsbury in London back in eighteen sixty nine Her poetry grew better as she aged like good wine With many family tragedies she knew of a very sad life Charlotte she never was anyone's wife In nineteen twenty eight she died in her late fifties in a slow and painful way By drinking of lysol but her legend lives on today In her wonderful poetry she was a great poet She will always remain as one worthy of literary note Family tragedies on the mental health did take toll Of Charlotte Mew a sensitive and talented woman with a poetic soul She was one of those who had the bright inner glow And in her great poetry her legend does grow.