And his tears mingled with the still waters of the peat bog…
«I brought you something darling !»
And he saw clay fingers protruding from the mud !
«I love you still !»
«My love liked to ride, so I’m giving her a horse’s head. The rest is
Made of wood, but it hardly matters, 'cause she’s dead ! And my love had
An eye for cameos and feathers for lapels. I don’t have those, but I
Have a lot of pretty silver bells.»
«My love wore her hair in a darling mess of golden braids… To help her
Under there, I’m sending down one of her maids. And my love took her tea
From a light-blue china service, and so that got buried first so she
Could calm herself in case of nervousness.»