Finishing this year's challenge with a copycat poem.
Little Elegy
Withouten you
No prose can grow;
No words can surge
I've never written
The sweetest slice;
My words have no grace
Or power to change;
Or any sense
But kind and fair,
Slicers everywhere.
Taken from:
Little Elegy
BY ELINOR WYLIE
Withouten you
No rose can grow;
No leaf be green
If never seen
Your sweetest face;
No bird have grace
Or power to sing;
Or anything
Be kind, or fair,
And you nowhere.