Laugh at me.  



(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCCXIV)


Soft blue skies put erst naked trees and thence
These yellowed lawns since dead, as if to scale,
In April's gentler light, though snow detail
The southern regions in that cold white sense
Of frozen Death, eaves dripping in suspense
While ice shrinks 'fore that ghostly breath's exhale
We once thought was Favonious', to avail
Hearts fainting on the threshold of sheer whence.
I canna think, although I sorr'ly do,
This world of mine a mess I wade through fer
So long now I've forgotten what it was as twere
To breathe.  Take notes of what we cherished to
Effect back when all half made sense, in poor
Scuse blind is't, LORD? whilst crying sans voice to You.

21Feb19b