Hello again my cute little coy butterfly net
I know that with time you may fray and fret
Though I wonder at which it is you wake to yearn
To be re-woven by one's intricate concern
Or the display of versatile reverberant things?
I recall your temporary retention of those beautiful wings
Your cornice of vivid vitality forever vicarious
Are you- the gentle jailer, nervous ******, or simply fastidious?
Those lives that you catch into your fluttering heart,
I suppose they may change you when pinned and ripped apart
Whether that be or they are released to fly free
In what you have yet to see spins your sense of serenity
So forget them, when you remember your demure nature
For history is just a child caught in sincere nomenclature.




Shakespeare's Sonnet #9

Is it for fear to wet a widow's eye,
That thou consum'st thy self in single life?
Ah! if thou issueless shalt hap to die,
The world will wail thee like a makeless wife;
The world will be thy widow and still weep
That thou no form of thee hast left behind,
When every private widow well may keep
By children's eyes, her husband's shape in mind:
Look what an unthrift in the world doth spend
Shifts but his place, for still the world enjoys it;
But beauty's waste hath in the world an end,
And kept unused the user so destroys it.
   No love toward others in that ***** sits
   That on himself such murd'rous shame commits.