This weekend I've been in a particularly musical frame of mind which might explain why I've written in a ballad-like form here, although without the associated rhyming scheme.
For the rescued process I stay true to the jumbled words in the vocabulary. We would usually spell the last word of this poem, 'luster', as 'lustre', but I quite liked that I had to adhere to the American spelling in the source text because it added another possible meaning ('a person lusting after...').
This rescued poem tiptoed out from pages 71 and 159 of The Devourers and Marie Tarnowska respectively, both by Annie Vivanti Chartres.
ten thousand lamps yet everywhere is dark
once, he held her nervous hand
twice, he smiled and kissed her
she was gentle-voiced and small
he, a dream-like stranger
once, he filled her eyes with tears
twice, he spoke of leaving
she was childish, blue and dark
he was moved, and trembling
twice, he bought her yellow flowers
once, he finished packing
her melancholy, low and deep
her gloom, a mellow luster