Seriously, I don't know what is true.



(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCCCXLIX)


While courtship has a flavour we'd avail
Ourselves of...ever, is't a hallmark thence
Of fond affection that he tells her hence,
And ever:  "you're not good enough"?!  Ne bail.
Go butter up wi' compliments to scale,
Then tear her down to less than nothing, whence
She is not...cuz you love her?!  THAT's good sense?
That's how ye cherish her, in sheer betrayl?
I do not understand.  Nor do I, fer
All that, believe aught flattry, though I rue
Its cruel effect.  Yet if I'm weary, poor
As thinking I have any say, of to
Whatever cause this "you're not good 'nough!"--stir
Thin hopes love might exist, that statement's...true.

04Apr19b

...but I couldn't recall where to fit the line when I'd finally a chance to write next morning.



(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCCCXLVIII)


Likeas a naked bulb which can't dispense
With all the gloom, but draws up shadows' hale
Forms to leer from aught corners in betrayl,
And close in on that bit of light, I thence
Half realize Instagram details what hence
Has allus been:  lives so far distant they'll
Laugh in my face (as ever) that in pale
Excuse I thought comradrie's not pretense.
O THIS just after midnight when in poor
Reply I'm not yet back asleep, though to
Effect I've not been to the app in tour
In lo, some days.  It's just that thought I knew
Last time I watched "their" vids scroll by as twere:
I'm fooling but myself, still half blind too.

04Apr19a

(Here's where I fully intended to write about..."him" and couldn't.)  



(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCCCXLVII)


So, as rain waits 'non in the wings t'avail
Sweet April of its antique phrase, as hence
How traffic lines up to disperse, and thence
Lo, rolls bake in the oven to detail
Our soup with now a chance for, in betrayl,
Orange marmalade to boot, as sparrows fence
The freighted calm with happy calls fr'intents
--A robin too--the dove flies 'round to scale.
Donne's erm, Selected Poems lies as it were
Hard by whiles I defer to scribble through
These minutes til the timer calls, in poor
'Scuse smiling at the birds like that is to
Effect passe, the light as fragile fer
All that as warmth.  And really, what is new?

03Apr19c

Smile?



(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCCCLXVI)


What? ere the daffodils nod with a sense
Of picnics in their sunny yellow scale
As twere of frilly cheer; whileas the pale
Eye of half hidden blue heavns trails from hence
Thin shadows 'cross the naked lawns green thence
Haunts with a ghostly touch; while sparrows hail
At intervals, and breathing is t'exhale
Without a second thought, what's not pretense?
Saul fell upon his sword t'escape as twere
Abuse by lo, the Philistines; died too,
And if war's gained a new face, claiming fer
Is't modern Troy? that it's a horse, what's new?
They'll let you see the palace' room in tour
Which is the grandest, and you thought you knew?

03Apr19b

What stinks is how the first words teased yet every time I read this the first half makes absolutely NO sense.  Loth to alter it--



(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCCCXLV)


Likeas sea foam upon the beach, what frail
Erm vestige dries within heavn's keener sense?
Aught I had cherished--scattered bones' is't hence?
Lies at the grave's mouth.  Though blue skies prevail
And golden light 'non washes all t'avail
In April's warming hope of life fr'intents,
"Thou hast made des'late all my compny--" whence
I stand aghast; pray; nor know what to hail.
If I dare laugh, lo, I am guilty, poor
As any feigned attempts to shrug off to
Effect this haunting sense all's dead as twere,
Is't?  So I pray to Thee, yet what's to do?
Not hunt for violets to share sorrow's tour
With tiny flowrs, no.  Just lo, wait on You?

03Apr19a
"Wait on the LORD:  be of good courage, and He shall strengthen thine heart:  wait, I say, on the LORD." Ps 27:14

Come, does the title recall a more familiar admonition?



(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCCCXLIV)


Sip coffee from espresso mugs for sense,
Yes, cradling that wee tazo in betrayl,
To sigh that tis perfection thus, t'exhale.
Feign I don't give a hoot in sheer defense,
And how my niece plays with me til pretense
'Most carries off the trick like't could avail.
Ya, watch as she eats all my grapefruit, frail
Joys juxtaposed 'gainst what? til I'm blind thence.
I told myself "three days..." a week 'go, poor
As thinking I'll do better now.  The crew
Of crimson buds wink from the distance fer
Reminders leaves shall soon be fluttring to
Capricious winds in lieu of trash.  Bestir
Me to see far off, yet alas, t'won't do.

02Apr19d

The LORD does.  But how my flesh is...everything the Scriptures declare.



(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCCCXLIII)


Let's talk about things other than the scale
Of my affection for who cares.  How dense
Blue racks are in the lack of shadows hence,
Or how the sparrows gaily cry in pale
Excuse for my 'non feeling like what they'll
Call, erm, a "*****."  Yes of, for aught intents
The LORD's great mercies, though I can't see thence
Past this torn minute's burdens to avail.
Reschedule lo, my hours whiles I in poor
'Scuse think that someone's cruel and rouse me to
Um, foolish oh, complaints.  I've read as twere
How Israel'd oft complain, and thought I knew
Far better, yet I cry against Thee fer
The umpteenth time, O LORD.  Help me now too.

02Apr19c

just raises brows quizzically



(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCCCXXXVIII)


Soft blue skies feign a note of what fr'intents
I thought to know at dawn, whilst in betrayl
"He's" finished and quite gone, me like to scale
'Non wondring if twas all in that joke's sense
Of "April Fools!" or but a dream from hence?
To rub my eyes as groc'ries, laundry hail
Me for attention, dinner too, in frail
Excuse now feeling like I've small kids thence.
O! How I long to go outside and fer
All that, just breathe!  Forget the day we knew,
Hark to the birds, and lose myself as twere
In that soft calm.  But oh! that will not do.
Watch golden light draw shadows up, each fir
A lacy doily, til that sunset cue.

01Apr19b

Ahem.  Rolling the first words of this sonnet over and over my tongue late Saturday afternoon--here it is finally



(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCCCXXXV)


Trash sidles 'long the weedy curb's detail,
To waltz out 'pon the blacktop, turning thence
And flipping oer to trip back for a sense
Of sheer caprice, and gambols through the pale
Dead grass 'til coming to a halt t'avail
My observation of likewise fr'intents
Some vague finale is't?  Were dinner hence
Not keen on my attention, I'd have bail.
Yet come, are not we like this trash in tour?
So lifeless as the dead leaves Scripture to
Effect declares we are, forsooth.  Winds stir
Our hapless selves akin to our vast crew
Of, lo: iniquities; to take us fer
All that far from Thee, LORD.  O what's to do?

31Mar19c  
"Seek the Lord, and his strength: seek his face evermore." (Ps 105:4)

...and know that I am God."  



(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCCCXXXIV)


Some dog barks from the clustered houses' sense
Of sheer commun'ty, distant as th'all hail
As twere of sparrows and the Cardnal.  Pale
Warmth is a tender kiss we feel from hence
While frore winds drive last Fall's leaves sans suspense
Across the naked blacktop.  Donne's poems they'll
Assure us are good reading lies t'avail
Next me upon the stoop, and whither thence?
Hark! as the dove's soft coo wafts 'non in tour
Likeas a note from yonder.  Say we knew,
Yet would not dare acknowledge aught that'd stir
Except by halves, blind, deaf, and sorry to
A fault cuz we'd not praise Thee, LORD, in tour
Was it?  Nor give Thee thanks.  How firs call too.

31Mar19b