First published in November/December, 2007, Volume 4, Issue 4, The Hatchet: Journal of Lizzie Borden Studies.

Kiss me sweet Laddie

though your tongue cannot speak

if I have done what is right

why must dusk air so bleak

tis three weeks dawn summer

I clench onto life

endowed me by father

but not by his wife

and, when the jay starts to caw

the bee governs her hive

with cup tulips a bloom

warm breezes arrive

from the trials of August

buds forth maples in June

birth springs so young

my soul parts so soon.

I yearn my ain countrie

this hull lists as I sail

Royal Nelson at helm

Donald Stuart at bail

Tell me sweet Laddie

will I meet spring no more

give me sweet kisses

time of year I adore

and as the advent of summer

strikes brazen and bold

will it leave me in darkness

has my poor soul been sold

kiss me sweet Laddie

though you can’t hold my hand

life slips through so swiftly

as a screen filled with sand.

I’m alone dear father

Emma where can you be

kiss me sweet Laddie

I’m afraid can’t you see

   kiss me sweet Laddie

   light fades, comfort me

kiss me sweet Laddie

kiss me

kiss me

(whisper)

kiss me.