I do.


(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCCXIV)


Where dawn is not, for rain whose last detail
Is threat'ning snow, grind coffee like erst, whence
Fresh Thompson's Irish Tea in lo, what thence?:
A well-worn Barry's mug, and joe t'avail,
Both with a dash of half-n-half to scale,
How snow late fills the air with white for sense,
As forecast, and I dearly hope from hence
That March swears off such blankets and owns bail.
A blackbird wanders nigh til, how in tour
The plover cries. Geese next, he calls 'gain to
Distract me, and by afternoon tis pure
Spring wetness all 'round. Puddles blankly view
Whate'er is nigh and naught else seems astir.
I put the Scriptures on...LORD, save us too.

16Mar25a

...you know?


(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCCIV)


The card'nal's voice from naked trees I thence
Reply to in his style, like that detail
Of courtship is a game? How plovers hail
Now after dark, keen mem'ries of Mum hence
In tow, cuz that's when I saw them fr'intents,
On her last walk with me, like that t'avail
Is no more from lo, Col'rado, the trail
To yonder is't? within their call for sense?
As if they call unto my soul in tour,
Oh LORD, I hear, yet what's anon to do?
My brother texts 'bout tuna salad--her
Um rec'pe, and we realize thereby too
That she ne'er wrote it down. Remember fer
Him, and he says it sounds right, LORD, of You.

12Mar25c

Howdya like that?


(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCCIII)


In Elgin over twenty years to scale,
Yet not in Scotland, Illinois as thence
Where I was born, and now like for intents
I live in Bolingbrook, yet not t'avail
In Munster Ireland, but lo, that detail
Of Lincoln's Land, again. What is it hence?
My father's house is Gordon, thus for sense
By Dand in all, and in my blood, like bail.
Is't by mere chance I drink tea, Barry's fer
All that?! Grew up on porridge like twas due,
And bagpipe strains more rarely, was that poor?
The prairies in my youth where skies so blue
Were all we knew, and longhorn too, bestir
In us to seek Thy face, LORD, and wait You.

12Mar25b

After all, "on Wednesdays we wear--"


(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCCII)


Three lanes of heavy traffic, racing thence
Whenas a gap appears, get home t'avail
Ere dawn, and sleep twas hours likeas sheer bail
Upon the couch, to heat the hash fr'intents
With ham on top (yes, protein central hence!),
Fry eggs (one frozen!), and make porridge, frail
As aught 'scuse, AFTER Barry's with to scale
Some shortbread, thankful's easy, like defense.
I guess I slept off Wednesday as it were,
March tender warmth enough with softest blue
Heavns to keep our heat off; the lake winds stir
To gentle rippling ducks sail on, a crew
Of geese on guard upon the shore, demure?
Thy mercies new each morn, LORD, we thank You.

12Mar25a

...I've wanted to for 14 years now. My late father had an anecdote from his college days where his friend's mother called after them: "Eat your banana! It's good for your heart!" and you know about how "an apple a day keeps the doctor away!" right?


(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCCI)


Caprese with cherry 'matoes' sweet detail
Tops aught I've known before, as if from hence
Tis all I ever should use, eh? The sense
Of basil fresh thus matched like to avail,
What's left to add? Pom avrils for sheer bail
Now that is done, the cake is finished, whence?
There's mac-n-cheese, beef hot dawgs, and from thence
So much more, choc'late ice cream down the trail.
Charcut'rie boards I'll pack for third shift's tour,
(Go call me selfish will ye?!), ne ado
For that detail, bananas, apples fer
Our hearts and keeping doc at bay anew,
We've oranges, and the list goes on. Bestir
Friends online and but tease? LORD, we wait You.

11Mar25d

...you've gotta BE here.


(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCCXV)


Let stormy blue racks hide the day to scale
Where naked trees lined up evince from hence
Vague hints of Spring, as if leaves shall fr'intents
Not be much longer, like chartreuse t'avail
Already murmurs of beyond, this frail
Calm plovers pierce with strangest wafting scents
Of melted butter just in tow for sense,
Like popcorn and a movie thought of bail?!
I was not here oernight, so maunt demur
Nor say if that e'en could occur, or's true.
Tomorrow is Saint Patrick's Day. We were
Most fond of corned beef with yes, cabbage too,
Yet rarely had such treats. With Reubens cure
For that, I'm only wishing I'd wait You.

16Mar25b

I do.



(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCCXIV)


Where dawn is not, for rain whose last detail
Is threat'ning snow, grind coffee like erst, whence
Fresh Thompson's Irish Tea in lo, what thence?:
A well-worn Barry's mug, and joe t'avail,
Both with a dash of half-n-half to scale,
How snow late fills the air with white for sense,
As forecast, and I dearly hope from hence
That March swears off such blankets and owns bail.
A blackbird wanders nigh til, how in tour
The plover cries. Geese next, he calls 'gain to
Distract me, and by afternoon tis pure
Spring wetness all 'round. Puddles blankly view
Whate'er is nigh and naught else seems astir.
I put the Scriptures on...LORD, save us too.

16Mar25a