Mar 2019
Okay, okay.
(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCCXXVI)
Ah, listen to the Scriptures as fr'intents
All that was day's gone to the dogs, in pale
Excuse for wanting now to write. What'd hail
When I was working, had no time, and thence
Thought to ink later? Blue skies cleared, a sense
Of April winked back through pine shadows, frail
Upon the melted snow's erm, puddles' tale,
And sparrows called for half a minute, whence?
How first John answers all that'd muddle fer
The umpteenth time what I erst thought I knew.
This vain dream I had thought was living, poor
As aught excuse, is only that: dreams. Do
We hear what Thou set'st 'fore us in this tour
Of breathing? O that we'd walk, LORD, with You.
22Feb19b
(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCCXXVI)
Ah, listen to the Scriptures as fr'intents
All that was day's gone to the dogs, in pale
Excuse for wanting now to write. What'd hail
When I was working, had no time, and thence
Thought to ink later? Blue skies cleared, a sense
Of April winked back through pine shadows, frail
Upon the melted snow's erm, puddles' tale,
And sparrows called for half a minute, whence?
How first John answers all that'd muddle fer
The umpteenth time what I erst thought I knew.
This vain dream I had thought was living, poor
As aught excuse, is only that: dreams. Do
We hear what Thou set'st 'fore us in this tour
Of breathing? O that we'd walk, LORD, with You.
22Feb19b
Laugh at me because I am learning to acknowledge finally that those simple childhood dreams of following in my precious mother's footsteps are impossible by now...Death leering at me, as "olde maid" is securely stamped across my profile.
