Shelley
Upon midnight's unrest, a Dame did rise, A phantom form, in murmurs of the night, And ran towards a blur before mine eyes, Then in a rustic Isle, a welcome sight. Shelley mercy, re-entered aiding acts divine, On tepid eves, a presence soft and low, Though immature, her wisdom did incline, And rescued me from madness's echoed woe That breathed over years, by yard quite near, She spoke of harms that junk foods impart, Her healthcare lore, learned with toil and fear, Of nutrition, AIDS, and cuisine's dark art, Rosewood's grace, and vague pain's sting, "Painkillers' misuse," she warned, "death can bring." ©Affaq