What stinks is how the first words teased yet every time I read this the first half makes absolutely NO sense.  Loth to alter it--



(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCCCXLV)


Likeas sea foam upon the beach, what frail
Erm vestige dries within heavn's keener sense?
Aught I had cherished--scattered bones' is't hence?
Lies at the grave's mouth.  Though blue skies prevail
And golden light 'non washes all t'avail
In April's warming hope of life fr'intents,
"Thou hast made des'late all my compny--" whence
I stand aghast; pray; nor know what to hail.
If I dare laugh, lo, I am guilty, poor
As any feigned attempts to shrug off to
Effect this haunting sense all's dead as twere,
Is't?  So I pray to Thee, yet what's to do?
Not hunt for violets to share sorrow's tour
With tiny flowrs, no.  Just lo, wait on You?

03Apr19a
"Wait on the LORD:  be of good courage, and He shall strengthen thine heart:  wait, I say, on the LORD." Ps 27:14