The Angels Were Generous

Lady Grey

Dedicated to all the women whose husband’s mistresses are painted battleship grey:

In the darkness he pulled her near,
Gently he brushed aside the tear:

She is my love, my light, my life.
You are my love, my light, my wife.

He tried in vain to ease her fears,
To tell her of his loves, both clear:

You own my heart and she my soul.
You own in part, she in whole.

Her sailor spoke of oceans grand,
And separations near at hand:

She throws in me out, mocks me at light,
And holds me close, rocks me at night.

How could she know or understand?
She only knew she loved her man:

You leave for her, your Lady Grey.
Return to me, your lady, to stay.