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May 2019
If only my ears weren't so damnably deaf.



(sonnet #MMMMMMMCMXLVII)


And now a breath bestirs the leaves t'avail.
Boughs rock sae gently as the whisper hence
Flirts through, whileas I strain to see fr'intents,
Then dies away when I 'gin writing frail
Hope's fragile tread, planes' voices all to scale
As trees stand clustered far as eye frae thence
Can see.  Twigs nod sae lightly wi' a sense
Of yonder jist in tow, beyond this veil.
I'm here because we've said too long now fer
All that lo, "Mum and Dad's dream will not do.
We MUST join step with whom we thought too poor
In their path through this world, and follow too,
What I deplored."  The LORD God, what as twere
Did I blieve 'bout His Word?  The Scriptures knew.

11May19c
Interesting, eh?
Jenny Gordon
Written by
Jenny Gordon  49/F/Bolingbrook, IL
(49/F/Bolingbrook, IL)   
365
     Wk kortas, Bogdan Dragos and Mark S
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