January's thaw was ever wont to deceive even the lacklustre souls with visions of sugarplums was that?



(sonnet #MMMMMMDCCCLXXVII)


How blue dusk fringes that wee chance t'avail
Myself of scribbling...ere we dine.  Spring hence,
Despite frore winds' most cruel breath, tiptoes thence
Within these longer hours of light.  Though frail
Perhaps in guise, yet O! in keen betrayl
Nor with aught joy, my very soul can sense
Its eye as if upon these wastes, til whence
Is only whether next month shall wax pale.
Yes, will ole Febry yield to April fer
All that?  I feel it in my bones anew,
Half shivring to acknowledge what, as't stir?
Ah, wherefore do I shrink from May, and rue
The hope of daffodils and violets, poor
As all my ecstasies therein?  Who knew?

12Jan18b

Purple and gradient
Notice the track of confusion?
Pressured and impatient
A path of endless conclusions

Bulletproof smirks and laughter
Triggering words of slumber
Sympathetic type of daughter
Less chances of buried happily ever afters

Unfinished sentences
Unspoken truths
Lack of confidence
Damaged youth

Tolerance of taking advantage
Scalps of pure insanities
Risking the removal of its personal privilege,
Her outer-space speaks Anxiety

Double jointed decision
Doctor's orders to always take permission,
Tied tongue to clasp the farewell
But formal speeches did not seem to go well

Alphabet traces drifted to the hole of her skull,
Plum lips bruised with a violet and violent scar,
For the surroundings became capably dull,
Everyone is forever ready to **** an innocent heart

Roses are red,

They're whatever I want them to be,

Maroon, crimson, ruby or aurulent,

But violets are blue,

It's true,

If you want it to be, not a hue, - or a tinge, or a shade, just blue.

So I choose you,

Because I do say that violets are blue.