That fact is what troubles my men.



(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCLXXI)


Snow diamonds scintillate as wont in pale
And lonely lamplight, blacker depths just hence
On all sides in the wee hours where I thence
Look out the kitchen window to avail
Long after midnight.  Then where dawn's eye'd hail,
Blue shadows cozen that small corner whence
See in the winking shafts how lo, they fence
The view with dazzling sparkles like to scale.
Tis Sunday.  Noon haunts plans whiles O! in poor
'Scuse ne espressos for this morning to
Effect finds me half wandring like to stir
Aught else might well, um, cure me. What is new?
We're captives, sold unto which potion fer
Our souls?  The racking clouds leave snow blind too.

27Jan19a

...poor man's tea, the softest boiled eggs on toast, porridge too, ere running out the door.



(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCLXIX)


He's smoking when I slide in, as the pale
Eye of a ghastly dawn now fingers hence,
Where shafts pierce 'cross this whiter canvas thence
Half golden, to illumine flakes' detail
Piled up in vast heaps, yet in sheer betrayl
Stacked up like individual pieces, whence
Note how like furry mounds it winks back, sense
Thrilled though ne words frame up what'd non avail.
And oh! his open window yields in tour,
Despite the mad rush of these highways too,
Whose voices? Birds.  As if the sparrows fer
All that were singing gaily unto You.
Likeas they e'er do, LORD.  I need as twere
Aught little glimpse, Thy mercies ever new.

26Jan19a

[Thank You, O LORD, for Thy great mercies.]



(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCLXVIII)


Say we girls walked three miles from parking, whence
The brisk temps gave us rosy cheeks t'avail,
My former beau is quite the **** in pale
Excuse, but that's how some men are fr'intents,
Nor am I sorry we are histry, thence
Too happy with a Friday night's detail,
From jazz to poets struttin' stuff to scale:
Just dandy, with the note of gay pretense.
No modern slang, however.  Sought in tour
By some dude for mair shows on her debut,
O how my friend and I had quite as twere
A ball tonight!  More in the wings now too,
What could top that fine news?! No coffee, poor
As saying, cept weak joe, but e'en that will do.

25Jan19b

Laughable, the worst part being our complete denial is it?




(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCLXVI)


So we discussed--I can't remember hence.
Snow falling through the hours likeas a veil
Beyond which naught 'cept white was in betrayl
Seen from this vantage.  Sip espresso thence
In silence those wee flakes knew for intents,
And oh! what did the minutes know?  In pale
Hours white, white, white half haunted, to avail
The Scriptures like a tete-a-tete for sense.
Dreams of tomorrow in my noggin tour,
'Non swirling like to crystallize the view
That will be done by now, I spose.  Tis poor
To thus rehearse, and lo, I lost all too
When, after dinner'd cull a hiccup fer
Our prayrs.  Our lives are what? a vapour.  Ooh.

24Jan19b

...but don't ask me WHY?--because I honestly don't know why, that's all.


(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCLXV)


Dawn warmed upon these frore white lands t'avail
With feeble notes the darkness fled from, thence
And with pink blushes like an olde maid hence
Erm, withring on the stalk as Wordsworth'd hail
Them in his sonnet on pure silence, pale
Hours all the more still with an ear whose sense
Of keener listning we'll catch if fr'intents
We stop to hark, snow dampning madness' tale.
Was't an espresso?  Or the dregs in tour?
I was too glad for that cup's steamy brew,
As if the very ghost of coffee were
Delicious on that scale.  We don't talk, to
Effect wrapt up in silence like to stir
Ourselves to speak is crimnal.  You call too.

24Jan19a

What are your eyes asking, then, reader?



(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCLXIII)


Snow.  Watch flakes like small children wander, hale
Nor but as if meandring down against mists thence
Composed of wee such as winds drive from hence
That whiteness 'cross this new world no detail
Blinks in, and brew dawn's *** of tea t'avail
Whilst juggling half a dozen things fr'intents;
Toast up two slices sourdough with a sense
Of "tea for two," to find my timing'd fail.
So, look out on this "wonderland" as twere
Half lost as those fat flakes I'd note, the view
Exquisite in pure white, trees frosted to
Effect, until the soul could rise in tour
If only, but I'm sipping tea in poor
'Scuse down here all alone.  O! to hear You.

23Jan19a

cough, cough*  



(sonnet #MMMMMMDCLIII)


Yes, I woke after one, as if t'avail
Myself of sleep ere tucking up has sense,
To find that notion snowplows were fr'intents
Upon the prowl in grinding form to scale
Long ere a Friday evning was past bail
Quite true, as snow filled that lone light's beams thence
With whiter mists, a blanket none could hence
Pierce on the blacker world in sheer betrayl.
If rolling phrases 'cross one's tongue in tour
Is grand, choice words the key 'fore their debut
On lo, this wrinkled notebook page, what were
They as I slipped into my nightie?  To
Effect:  "snow AFTER midnight--".  None too poor,
I spose.  And how winds craft dunes 'cross the view.

19Jan19a

Mebbe laugh at me?  



(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCLII)


Tis snowing lightly, like the fragile sense
Of steam too many hours ago, that pale
Dance of half ghostly tendrils as a veil,
Now white lies in the shoveled tracks fr'intents--
Some veil laid down for "I was here" ist?  whence
I'll try to not remember on that scale
It IS a Friday night with naught t'avail,
This cabin fever sans a cure from hence.
I should watch films tonight.  But that is poor.
Eat choc'late?  Mebbe that could thinly do.
What good were all my boyfriends as it were?
Girls half my age are married now.  Love's to
Effect a ***** joke played on me fer
Laughs I cannot enjoy.  Why is't not true?

18Jan19b

...unaware of gathering darkness.



(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCL)


If nightfall wore the softest slippers whence
Twas silent in approach, I could not hail
It on that note, as was the case, light pale
All day til others blinked on in suspense
None felt in all in our haste to be from hence
Wherever as lo, darkness seals the tale
Of aught we'd erstwhile known whileas t'avail
I finish warming soup in sheer defense.
But dinner's late.  Cuz we'll have pizza too.
Thus, biscuits/rolls rise to th'occasion, poor
As hot food going cold in Winter's tour
Of bitter duty.  We put off th'ado
Called dinner til that night is black.  Then stir
Ourselves to eat, and pepperoni'd cue.

17Jan19b

...we are.




(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCXLVIII)


How diamonds twinkle in morn's eye to scale!
Snow's whitest canvas icy, yet with hence
Those crystals dancing to heavn's glance, as thence
Blue seas smile on these landscapes to avail,
Clouds fragments of cold icebergs in betrayl,
And if I could but hark, the sparrows' sense
Of merry play in tow, while oh! fr'intents
We have a chance to sip tea like tis bail.
Dad sez his friend closed last night's phone call fer
All that with la, the note of what he'd do
For dinner: cheese, wine, and baguette in tour,
Our souls both wishing for some of that too,
The winking view afore us now as twere
Made poor by that suggestion, blind to You.

16Jan19a