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Mar 2019
Ya, I'll say everything, except all I know about...him.



(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCCXCIII)


Dear rain whose mincing footfalls but avail
The fellow working in thy moist kiss hence,
High in the scaffold where that silence thence
Does not quite cozen him, as he could hail
Each little noise if he desires, the pale
Eye of this first new day of Spring fr'intents
Is tender in its frore note, with a sense
Of all we cherished just in tow, to scale.
And like this season of auld loves we were
Taught was keen on romance, I wish he knew,
Nor was as now a fragile dream roused fer
My sheer distraction cuz chance thought to do
Me in by circumstance.  I pray in tour,
Yet am afraid to ask if he does...woo.

20Mar19c
NOTE:  Alas, I've taken to rising the past two mornings assuring myself that all this foolishness is passed with the previous day, to no avail.  Mayhap tomorrow?  I hate this idiocy.
Jenny Gordon
Written by
Jenny Gordon  49/F/Bolingbrook, IL
(49/F/Bolingbrook, IL)   
151
     Wk kortas and vb
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