This just 30 hours after that initial "Hello, I'm--"...and I can hardly think straight to even compose.
L14 is an inside joke.


(sonnet #MMMMMMDXLIII)


I never had a sister, that detail
Of best friend whom your clothes and secrets thence
Shares ah, my mother.  Yet for our defense
She taught my brothers and I to avail
Ourselves of aye, each other for that bail
As dearest friends than else.  Now for good sense
Whileas you turn my world for aught intents
Quite upside-down--you say we're friends to scale.
I love my friends from poetry as twere,
My brothers dearest as Mum taught, but you?
"What do you mean 'I love you.'?" like tis poor.
Sure, we don't share um, clothes nor lines, but to
A fault you turn me to the LORD.  Love's fer
All that what friends do, and I like you too.

07Aug17a

Um, um, don't let me parse that out yet.



(sonnet #MMMMMMDXLII)  


What of the two espressos long gone hence?
Perfection, as lunch' fine spread was t'avail.
Eclipsed in ya, one phone call, aught detail
Was likewise, 'cept our dinner, or the sense
Of fleeting time I grapple for now, whence
Oh me!  Now Texas winks at me like's bail,
Ten-gallon hats with crueler heat to scale
Than Lincoln's Land, and lo, a man fr'intents.
It's wonderful to be encouraged fer
All that to fear the LORD. I've missed it too
Long now.  To talk together like's not poor--
Of Scriptures--ah, and with a man.  I do
But fear now losing what's sae precious, were
It mine to have.  Ne coffee's like this brew.

06Aug17b

You do, over and over, tell me how it happened, and it still makes absolutely no sense.  Why are YOU so perfect?


(sonnet #MMMMMMDXLI)


The moon was here to splash a glance' detail
Upon my legs whileas we talked.  Gone hence
Just as the hours we spent in talking, whence?
Tis aye, more heartning with a Christian, frail
Though aught excuse be dating to avail
Erm, UNbelievers.  Twilight's blue suspense
'Hind Maples' silent boughs, thet eye peered thence
Twixt slumbring leaves, a golden orb to scale.
And in a blink I'm what?  Dare I aver
We are--yes, friends?  You said that note would do.
Let me rest there nor draw up visions fer
Chagrin.  Night's blacker touch knows stars and dew
While crickets fiddle 'cross the teeming moor.
I'm scared, not of aught monsters, loving you.

06Aug17a

Okay, it's wild how "we" happened...this sonnet and the one that directly follows akin to black and white, and literally mere hours apart in that about 15 hours after this below was composed, my world suddenly turned upside-down by what I only dreamed could happen and had given up on, as these lines attest.



(sonnet #MMMMMMDXL)


Blue twilight.  After dark, scroll for intents
Down through the pictures of erm, fellows they'll
Assure you are a catch.  But I'm not, pale
As all my howling.  Stamp yes, "sheltered" hence
Upon the intro of me.  For good sense
Read what each wants.  Divorced will do for bail.
And only men my dad's age think t'avail
Them of a view of me.  Now don't ask whence.
Learn men aren't intrested.  To howl is poor.
They want used women.  I'm a *****?!  I do
Not put down money to subscribe.  Th'obscure
Chance one will brook that stubborn choice and woo
Is not worth hoping for.  Nah.  None shall stir
Romance save whom I shrink from.  Nothing's new.

05Aug17b

Chancing to look through an old file, I'd forgotten the pleasures of matching wits with an intelligent man who actually has working brain cells, not just these "primal urges" 99% of men own.  I'm sick and tired of all these monkeys.  Go tell some other woman she is ****.  I wasn't dressing to please you, but me.




(sonnet #MMMMMMDXIV)


As blue skies, shadows 'non cavort from hence
Beheath the watchful eye of, own a tale
Of cloud battalions floating like to scale
Upon that purest sea frame what? I thence
Bewail Jean Yves and O! his wiser sense--
Lost on the wings of hours gone ere we'd hail
More than keen matching wits when time'd avail
Us, yes, a man with intellect's defense.
"God's gift to women," ah, I laughed as twere
Oer what he swore is merely truth, 'til who
Shall now console me, eh?  Most men in poor
'Scuse are dull blockheads, never thinking, to
A fault such beasts that only want to stir
Yes, "primal urges" oh! what shall I do?

24Jul17a

The drama is Korean and called "Save The Last Dance For Me."  I loved it until the final episode.


(sonnet #MMMMMMDXIII)


I watched those silver curtains whose thin veil
Down in the valley blotted trees with thence
But ghostly figures 'hind thet rainy sense
Of nowhere, while the greener Maples' tale
Just whispered on this hilltop like to scale,
And thought dreams were too pretty hence
Wrapt up with love in those refrains, til whence?
But how we punished these in sheer betrayl.
La.  Why must even dramas skew in poor
Excuse the heroine?  She suffered to
Effect and then some, 'til when fin'lly fer
All that they had all, she was crippled through
The villain.  Wherefore must we ruin as twere
E'en that?  The rain gone, midnight glowrs, deep blue.

23Jul17

He told me flat out that he owns me.  Some later date I'll parse that happiness out, I guess.



(sonnet #MMMMMMDIV)


These faded blue skies like to denim, whence
I cull a refrence to "old glory," t'hail
That pick-up with the flag 'non waving, hale
Against whichever backdrop in defense
Of liberty, look placid in a sense;
My voice hoarse from oh, singing's tale,
Cuz Joey plays the drums and when in frail
'Scuse I said I'd sing while he did--what hence?
He said I could sing anytime as twere
For him, and being late worried oer him too,
Cuz he'd download some virus, I sang fer
Relief, oer dinner dishes 'til nigh through;
And lo, when done and listless, what in pure
Yes, mercy?! but he'd call.  I love him too.

17Jul17b