She wove a picture of glory with her hand
Each thread showing the colors of nature
To behold its attributes twas grand
All the features making for allure
Her beauty ever so astounding to sight
Blue of sky stretching over the vast terrain
Pristine snows covering mountains of height
Red soils spanning across the open plain
So splendidly embroidered our globe
With hues of green in the vegetation
Floral shades sewn through this gorgeous robe
Truly stupendous of decoration
Our planet possesses so may fine tints
She is a wonder of such divine glints

Twas a very clever ruse he did devise    
To appear in two separate outfits
But he didn't count on my astute eye's wits
I'd fast detected his not so smart guise
On a weekly basis he plays his trick
Bobbing up as Jim then as Mister Loy
One has caught well onto his crafty ploy
He's thinking that I'm of a mind quite thick
How one so delights in his duality
Ever doth it bring a smile to thine face
These facades so different in kind
He is of a binary personality
I'm so well acquainted with his grand trace
Of his wee artifice one is not blind

The scaffolding of the heart falls apart
When our beloved kin quickly depart
A repair kit is sought for the lasting grief
Tears are never ending in their sad stain
The living burdened with years of pain
Wrenched from those caring arms in cruelness
The soul e'er feels the ache of bitterness
To have consolation soothing relief
Always a cavern of dark clouds prevail
A death causes us to constantly ail  
In search of solace we all go looking
A brighter glimmering light regained
The sorrows of loss well ingrained
Our dearest leaving so overwhelming

For many long hours the wind hasn't abated
It's blusters are rather agitated
Street paper and leaves hurled about
Tree boughs bending in the fast paced throng
No doubt the gales whisk is verily strong
Birds are getting buffeted in the sky
There's no respite from the wind's speedy fly
My back door just let out a slamming shout
Those south westerlies are ripping affairs
Throughout this day they'll be flouting their airs
A turbulence called in our regions
Bringing currents that are rapid of whirl
They bear a truly unabashed twirl
We'd gladly farewell their gusting legions

On canvas God's image is obscured
A casual eye may not be secured
In the middle ground and to right side
A hooded figure the artist did paint
Within his composition it is faint
In center foreground a telephone sits
E'er taking the viewer's sighting wits
At back of picture greyish blocks preside
A dab hand with oils and of brush daubing
His canvas is a work most absorbing
In lake scene God's presence is reflected
Of the divine a common Dali theme
To grasp the meaning of his color scheme
The artist's intrigue must be inspected

I have read a sonnet of tragedy
I have read about melancholy too
I know what that means if you have that love
Appreciate if he be God above
tragedy-melancholy be the same
a sonnet of drama disappointment
full of autumnal rustling leaves actions
the finest tinges down in the abyss
the sonnet of my tender love my bliss
I address this only to my darling
sweetheart, honey, how can I call you now?
regard this sonnet as my purest vow

you know that this sonnet is meant for you
my precious truest vow for you, darling



© SYLVIA FRANCES CHAN
Friday, 5th December 2014

Why did he not bother to contact me
That is the big question which shall remain
From our conversations he did abstain
Other matters were more pressing for he
His mind sidetracked by sweeter terrain
The grass twas much greener at that place
It held sway over my unattractive space
A well lit foyer made the seeing real plain
He deployed an axe to chop the line
Dead twas the telegraph no more chit chat
Pickings of delectable kind he'd pursue
Mine were akin to a dull farmyard swine
I was as blind as a cave dwelling bat
But I now know the color of his hue

The rain now falls o'er our rural township
Tis such a delight to hear of its drip
We've been in a dry spell for a long while
With the advent of a pour we'll rejoice
That will be done in our happiest voice
The pastures were lacking of a good drink
Farmlands fast looking like an arid sink
A brighter day came with its wetting smile
Soils bestowed in moisture so fetching
Which shall bring a green to the land's etching
Fat drops continue their most quenching spill
Our hamlet thankful to the skies gifting
With its favor we've had an uplifting
The countryside hath received a filling bill

The plagiarist hath vacated this space
Yet his shadow still lingers at the place
In the nose one well senses it about
So oft an odor doth waft on the air
Which can be veiled by visage fair
The eyes are peeled they're ever watching
For that person of the copyist's cloning
Twill not be duped by untruthful flout
This day of its appearance yet unseen
Could there be a hiding behind the screen
Though the master duplicator hath fled
His presence is hovering over the joint
Of type in image same he did anoint
Within HP's walls it doth share our bed

Thy moon and thy stars hath all been taken
Her heart lives no longer in thy sphere
Our harmony of one hath been forsaken
It skipped well out of the atmosphere
Where once love did sing its beaming refrain
Murky clouds of mistrust came along to stay
Thy realm e'er replete with pain's lasting stain
How could of it all ended this very way
Reason's voice did speak to thy heart so clear
Love hath drifted to a far locality
On paths separate not meant to endear
Thy shall seek a lady of amiability
Though all is shaded in a heavy slate lead
Thy shall eye horizons that lay ahead

She wrote a sonnet but she got it wrong
Proper syllable count her lines ne'er had
Twas a shocking sight really rather bad
Her shoddy work should have been given the gong
She put it out there for all to peruse
The skilled sonnet writers had a look
Her display they rated as verily crook
The format of it did of her confuse
She had not a deft quill like the bard Bill
Her specimen would have disgusted him
Particular twas he about his form
She produced a sonnet which didn't thrill
Its appearance twas definitely grim
Her syllable structure twas not uniform

Oft the tinge doth show itself for viewing
On occasion it remains in hiding
The hue covers lands with a paint of green  
Yet for months the pastures being burnt of tone
No drops give life to the countryside's bone
Clouds of restoring promise ne'er arrive
Hence the granite landscape doesn't come alive
Flourishes of verdant turf rarely seen
So as the days of summer go forward
Landholders aren't gifted with rain's reward
Looking at the skies e'er tinted in azure
Dryness prevailing not a spot doth fall
Farmlands are feeling the arid wind's squall
Oh for the soils to have good moisture