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May 2018
Oh, I think I've figured it out:  I'm so bouncy and smiley simply because I am chronically depressed.  



(sonnet #MMMMMMMCLXXV)


Oh yes, please text me that "it's love's detail"
And promise marriage ere we've talked fr'intents
But hours, to ask how I earn money hence,
Whileas ye ditch me cuz I don't in pale
Excuse have sure employment, and t'avail
That's what I've feared:  love false, as each want cents
When they quip "****."  And I knew't.  Good sense.
True love, shan't care for her purse:  love is bail.
I stoop low for the purple violets, stir
Twixt taller grasses that wee morsel's cue
Of deepest sorrow:  cuz I am as twere
Myself a violet, lost and trodden through
The years, and full of grief, yet smiling too,
For that's our lot.  Ai!  Is love always poor?!

24May18b
And for the octet:  my mother, and several of my brothers have assured me that IF a man truly loves a woman, he will not care at all that she's penniless.  I've known a few true lovers, then, been engaged once to one such, but for the most part am hit upon by fakes.
Jenny Gordon
Written by
Jenny Gordon  50/F/Bolingbrook, IL
(50/F/Bolingbrook, IL)   
355
   Muzaffer, --- and liz
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