My take on Three poems.
Lady Clare, Humble Lady of truth how I do love thee.
Lady of Shalott, my voice is not as his, but only your face he did see. Your beauty was your want for beauty, to leave the shadows was your souls duty. To die rather than live a lie.
Beautiful Woman Without Mercy , I kiss your eyes, but why do you cry? Your meaning, your sorrowful lament to me evades. The seasons pass as I ponder in the shades. Are my memories of you gone in time, just a dream or a dream of you to be mine.