Oh Pemberley! Oh Pemberley!
You’re so high! could reach
You’re so wide! hold the cascade behind.
She looked for you, for a while.
Blooms her core,
The spring cuddles filled with
the scent of dreams.
The great fountain driblets on
Soothing and revitalizing it is.
Skyscraping and handsome were the rooms,
The Veiled Vestal Virgin
swaddling the gap,
Of pride and prejudice with mesmerizing nap.
Oh!! “I might have been mistress!” of grace.
The bust of Fitzwilliam Darcy, stabbed her core,
Residing at Chatsworth hub.
“Oh, if I find that path, am I able to laugh?”
Her two cheeks are telling so,
Falls for pride,
And she left behind.
(Courtesy: Ode To A Poetess, www.odetoapoetess.com)