An Epitaph On A Goldfish

A poem by Richard Le Gallienne


Five inches deep Sir Goldfish lies,
Here last September was he laid,
Poppies these that were his eyes,
Of fish-bones were these bluebells made.
His fins of gold that to and fro
Waved and waved so long ago,
Still as petals wave and wave
To and fro above his grave.
Hearken too! for so his knell
Tolls all day each tiny bell.

Reader Comments

Tell us what you think of 'An Epitaph On A Goldfish' by Richard Le Gallienne

comments powered by Disqus

Home | Search | About this website | Contact | Privacy Policy