Sonnet

I love the sonnets of Shakespeare. Who doesn’t, right? They have been good friends to me of late. Bill had a way of writing about love unlike any other; new love, old love, forbidden love, unspent love, unrequited love, undeserved love and immortal love to name a few. They’ve inspired me to take a stab at a sonnet of my own. It is a modified form unlike those of Bill’s day. And, although I think it’s pretty good, it’s a want ad or Hallmark card by comparison. Be that as it may, I give you…

 

Tear me from this mystery of sap and shapeless track of dawnless night

Betrayed within the conundrum of grace, suffused by quickening light

A statistic now in sharp withdrawal and vacuumed from the place of sight,

Warned by love of love forgot.

 

To steal what might have otherwise giv’n a simple love, both shared, sublime

Is to find all that is found when ‘tis doubly passed through space, in time

Where music, sweet, and dancing, too, the world begets what two define,

Found in love what love is not.

 

To remedy the hurricaned heart while delay and trepidy so daunting

Playing games so wicked, wild with words unspoken, dazed and flaunting

Now no sound, nor whispers call to head so bleak, a heart left wanting,

Comes grace, alas, where sin forgot.

 

Love is come where passion burned

And still’d itself inside, and learned.

 

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