What are your eyes asking, then, reader?



(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCLXIII)


Snow.  Watch flakes like small children wander, hale
Nor but as if meandring down against mists thence
Composed of wee such as winds drive from hence
That whiteness 'cross this new world no detail
Blinks in, and brew dawn's *** of tea t'avail
Whilst juggling half a dozen things fr'intents;
Toast up two slices sourdough with a sense
Of "tea for two," to find my timing'd fail.
So, look out on this "wonderland" as twere
Half lost as those fat flakes I'd note, the view
Exquisite in pure white, trees frosted to
Effect, until the soul could rise in tour
If only, but I'm sipping tea in poor
'Scuse down here all alone.  O! to hear You.

23Jan19a