PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Thank you so much; coming: Thank you so much; coming from you, quite a compliment!!!

Thank you for the reply. : Thank you for the comment.  First let me apologize for the typo in her name, which I have just now corrected.  My theory would not support a book's length; it is presented in a short poem which was posted to this site; and its original posting was on the premiere Ripper website, Casebook Jack the Ripper, in London, in January 2001.  That was my first ever poem posted on the internet.      Mary Kelly is a fascinating person, even with what little we know of her.  We know she was considered very beautiful, was of small stature, but curvy.  She was not a streetwalker; she was what we would now term an "outcall" girl.  Though she lived in East London, several of her clients resided in the more affluent West end; some people believed that one of her clients was a member of the Prime Minister's cabinet.  She was fluent in French and Welsh, as well as English, and one of her landlords remembered a crate of books which accompanied her to the various residences she occupied during her brief adult life:  these books were fine editions of the nineteenth century novels that we now teach in our high school English courses.  Her "outcalls" were not always just for sex:  she was also invited to fine dining, and to West end theaters.  She was, apparently, very good company.  From time to time, she worked as a model for the painter, Walt Sickert; in the 1940's, when Sickert's son, Joe, was on his deathbed, he said that his father had fallen in love with Mary Kelly sometime before the Ripper attack; and that every female Sickert ever painted after 1888 was Mary Kelly.  I believe Sickert knew that she had killed the Ripper in self-defense, and helped her to escape the country---most likely to France, which was a country she had visited during a vacation in 1887, where she was fluent in the language.  I believe that there is yet an old trunk in some old house, up in the attic, covered with dust, which, when opened, will give to us a diary, or letters, or some indication of what happened to her after 1888.

Pretty words, pretty flow.: Pretty words, pretty flow.

This is an excellent: This is an excellent spiritual poem!

Touching poem: Wish not for the death of hearts that beat. When fingers that can feel cracks become extinct, thus hope is severed from humankind for good.

Bless You Starward! : Much Gratitude for your kindness:)