MODF: A poem I wrote last year for my Freshman Lit. class…
Info: POV- Catherine about Heathcliffe
I got an A on this.
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: I do not own 'Wuthering Heights'. I don't have the kind of skill that Miss Bronte did…
Wand'ring Gypsy
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Father's brought a dark-haired boy
To the tame life from the wild
Shall I take a liking to
This wand'ring gypsy child?
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Father's soul has left us now
Our days of fun are at an end
Brother's deemed you servant-class
My wand'ring gypsy friend.
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O, charming lad of Thrushcross Grange
You take a heart not your possession
For it belongs to him, young boy
The wand'ring Gypsy's passion.
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Poor young boy of Thrushcross Grange
Though we are to be wed
My heart of heart is just a place
My gypsy boy may tread.
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Twisted and bent every which way
My mind, it isn't the same
But I know that you left me, and it still hasn't dulled
My gypsy's passionate flame.
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And in my sweet and silent slumber
As I slip into eternal night
I wait to see in afterlife
My wand'ring gypsy's shining light
And I will always hope we might
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In death, ne'er be parted.
MODF: There are parts of this I like, and parts I don't. It was a while ago I wrote this...