L for The Last Leaf

This is my most humble attempt at putting the gist of O.Henry's masterpiece 'The Last Leaf' in verse. My sincere apologies to all those who might feel offended at my attempts to kill the soul of a brilliant piece of work, my skills are really limited.

L for ...


The Last Leaf



The Last Leaf

Once upon a time, inside a squatty studio,
Situated in the maze of Greenwich village,
With a death-white face, ready to bid adieu,
Johnsy laid counting, the ivy vine foliage.

Terrified with the doc's observations,
Panicky with Johnsy's last leaf fancy,
To Behrman, Sue disclosed her emotions,
To him going with the leaves looked infancy.

The rains beat the vine hard in the gushing wind,
Yet the stubborn leaf refused to fall,
And forced Johnsy's views to rescind,
To set her on a path of recovery, clearing pall.

Behrman was gone around the same time,
But the masterpiece he used to always tell,
Was left behind in all its glory, on the ivy vine,
Painted by him the night, the last leaf fell.

(Epilogue)
A masterpiece not valuable enough,
To be auctioned decades later as a lifeless art,
But one of its own kind of priceless stuff,
Blessed by Him for saving a dying heart.