If I was a forgotten word, Thelma,
a word alone!
a word forlorn!
Well!
If I was a forgotten word, Thelma,
would a 'dear' it don,
a severed echo,
on its whetted thorn.
Perhaps! No!
or Perhaps! Oh!
If I was a forgotten word, Thelma,
lingering thus
and lingering so,
this one that one wonder Oh!
Be at ease my dearest Thelma,
for I am now,
and the now am I,
be anonymity due
at the crests of dawn.