...as does 1580.



(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCCCXXVII)


Rain falls likeas a nursemaid's calm voice hale
In tender solace, where the light from hence
Has not resolved itself, and night seems thence
Reluctant to depart, the soothing scale
Of sheer relief what children gladly hail
When fevered as myself, for tis defense,
The soul aware within that note of whence
Being still hid by sheer mists, but what'd avail.
Late morning, how the dove calls from as t'were
Near yet half distant, sparrows, and geese too
'Non chatt'ring as the feast called breakfast's tour
Waits for indulgence, eggs, tomato to
Grapes, bacon, cottage cheese, banana fer
All that and brie with apple asking who?

23Apr25a