You feel like a flower thirsting for drink,
A flower in the desert,  mind  a foul well,
Relying  on others is not all so swell,
You feel like an anchor pulled down on the brink..
Anxiety flows in you up and down,
You  have weak muscles , call the doctor too,
  You  have chronic joint pains you are due,
Old life is dead; no time for  a meltdown .
The Sun does shine on all with or without strife,
And being happy  are   like colored flowers,
Bouquet of  flowers ,differ smell just as sweet
It is now a new beginning of your life
The practice of mindfullness empowers
And find hobbies too- find new folk to meet

...old.


(sonnet #MMMMMMMMCMLXVIII)

Trees are so naked now, as if what hence?
The rain stript off their leaves? The féte's detail
Was last month, and we're ****** anew in frail
Reply where xmas lights could add fr'intents
The cheer we feel within our bones from thence
Is sorely missing? Last night's piece t'avail
Of choc'late cake, half finished, starts the trail
To whither, where I think of Campbell's sense.
Yes, veggie beef stew sounds grand where in poor
'Scuse my head's stuck in summer. Yearning to
Be back where plaids and cocoa, soups in tour
And knits were all the rule, why is that view
So foreign still? I'm all mixt up. Demur
Not to redeem me, LORD, for I need You.

07Nov24b

...I asked when I ordered.


(sonnet #MMMMMMMMCMLXVII)


Geese wander in the wheelchair parking, hale
Late morning golden with a teasing sense
Of yonder, where now Starbucks' menu's dense
With all our fav'rites: peppermint's detail
What I've missed since last Winter, like t'avail
Me signifies the weather I feared? Whence?
If I'm bewildered, Thou, LORD, art defense
Enow. The day off I'd requested...bail?
Is't either work yourself to death as t'were
By hours both day and night, or scramble to
Make ends meet cuz you've time to rest up, poor
As need for some recov'ry?! What'd I do?!
Behold, LORD, my confusion. Oh, bestir
Thy mercies as of old. Save me, won't You?

07Nov24a

...and him: what shall I do?


(sonnet #MMMMMMMMCMLIII)


Caprese...oh! Fragrant basil with, t'avail
Fresh mozzyrella and tomato hence
In tango waltzing, how I swoon! Defense
For dreaming lo, all summer, which detail
Could e'er suffice next? None. Aught else derail
Th'indulgence, yet the time was sweet fr'intents,
Corn on the cob not too bad, with pie thence
As our dessert; why still in love sans bail?
I was his once; he keeps me still, yet's poor
Cuz wherefore? He dates 'round behind me who
He does not want,  ergo what shall I do?
Brought me Panera coffee for, as t'were
Old time's sake, wore dark stubble to bestir
Me, ate half of the salad, and seems'd woo.

02Nov24b

...with Panera [hazelnut] coffee.


(sonnet #MMMMMMMMCMLII)


Frost glitters likeas diamonds in the dense
Keen silence of black night, where to exhale
Is white clouds which just hang, suspended, frail
Naught list'ning closely for a voice to fence
The thought of yonder; but none answers hence
'Cept lo, the Scriptures. Lonely walk whose trail
None but one set of headlights 'llumes to scale
Ends wi' a plea to Thee, oh LORD: defense.
"What is yer life but lo, a breath that'd stir
For half a moment ere tis gone?" We knew
How to lisp off that like the alph'bet, poor
As nevir seeing, oh LORD, how it is true.
What have we here? What do we do? "In Yer
Light we see light--" Bring us with joy to You.

02Nov24a

...until Saturday morning. [Up at midnight November 1st for work, and not able to go to sleep until nearly 2100, having titled October 29th's sonnet "I've Lost Track Which Day Tis" who's surprised?]


(sonnet #MMMMMMMMCMLI)


November first is up to specs, t'avail,
Chill as we knew it best like Winter's sense
Delivers, golden light where naked, dense
Bare trees stand in blue heavn's eye, wrappers trail
Left on the floor like last night's féte' detail
Was as expected, and the thought fr'intents
Of yonder is ham, turkey, gifts pretense
Tricks out in style, and thinking you own bail.
Oh, tis a Friday too, where I've as t'were
Been granted so much to thank Thee for through
These hours, how could I fail to see, in poor
'Scuse? Robert visits and hangs out like to
Rekindle what once flourished, and leaves fer
All that as if he owns me...is that true?!

01Nov24b

Starbucks latest stardash for yours truly, beginning of supposed summer [however summer began May 1st], demanding I make a purchase BEFORE 11AM, when my café wasn't open until 5am and I needed to be half an hour away on the clock by 5am, forced me to head in even earlier, stopping at a café by work which had only just opened for the day at 4:30am, and when I ordered an espresso, they said they'd accidentally prepared eggbites--did I want those for free with my espresso? What a treat!



(sonnet #MMMMMMMMDCCLVII)

Mist's hazy essence likeas ghosts whose pale
Forms hulk and hunker down like sent'nals thence
In silence watching aught which pass fr'intents,
Detail morn even yet, as if to scale
Half loth to vacate, ling'ring in the hale
Eye of a Friday heat upon the dense
Yet distant massy trees the valley's sense
Of hidden joys boasts, as birds sweetly hail.
The kale and 'shroom bites fragrant,want as t'were
Bread with th'espresso, or else cream t'undo
Its sharpness, and if romance flirts in tour
Within mists' note, shall I say that all woo?
My elbows swelled as if that's normal, stir
Thyself to save us, LORD, for we need You.

21.Jun.24b

Like Lot's wife, eh?



(sonnet #MMMMMMMMDCCXLIX)


How Samuel Daniels' lines come to from hence
The 'fore, though nary Delia shall avail
Aught suit or break a heart, just that detail:
"...Ne'er let the rising sun approve [fr'intents]
You liars--" as dreams waltz through my noggin, dense
With mair chagrin in tow than joy, their frail
Sweet promise I knew ere what shall 'non fail
Before the light, although they dance. Ah, whence?
Dear youth so subtly fled! Though I bestir
Fond mem'ries of my father's house and rue
The loss of all we'd cherished, known and were
A part of then, I can't return. I threw
The pieces off, saying I'd come back. T'was poor.
All's lost. There's naught left. LORD, what did I do?!

14.Jun.24b

Swooning over a very pretty number in Palgrave's Golden Treasury, I Googled it, to find to my chagrin it was supposedly pure fiction. [I think not, but.] Ergo, I began, but since mine are never fiction, this is neither. Begun in dialect, that effect deteriorates midway since the initial drive did likewise.


(sonnet #MMMMMMMMXLIX)


Say Jenny, she ne'er married aught, and whence?
Fine fellows came a' courting. She'd avail
Hersel' of mair than ane or twa, 'cept he *** fail
To tie the knot and she *** feign frae thence
Twas a' fer guid, as if thar was defense.
But thar was nane.  Or p'raps thar was. Detail
How minny girls ha' suffered in the frail
Hope of a happy life, and she's spared hence.
The man who played her fer a fool in tour
She blindly loved, as minny wimin do,
He courting others 'neath her nose in puir
Reply, then telling her long after. Who
Kin blame puir Jenny she ne'er married? Stir
Her sisters now to envy or tears too?

20.May24b/31.Oct.24
Note: a stab at writing for art's sake alone.