Mmm...mebbe I'll manage a sonnet about what followed.  Prolly won't.  But, you never can tell.



(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCCXCVIII)


Where golden shafts flirt with the fainting sense
Of clearing skies sae purely blue, til hale
Warmth looks upon my naked arms' detail
As sparrows sing like all is games from hence,
O let my soul, if poss'ble, vanish thence
To higher realms likeas twas mine t'avail.
And whilst the frore breath sifts through, to exhale
With softest measures plying wisps, I'll breathe.  Whence?
Don't ask unless ye've lo, the Scriptures fer
Just whither.  Now's a thin chance to see through,
Although I canna pierce the mists in tour.
Let my soul hear the sparrows as they woo
Us from beyond this wasteland I've as twere
Been wandring years now, til that I see...You.

21Mar19d