To lift us up when grimoires grimly fail,
this sonnet is for Joy, and joy we need;
the theme is joy, though gloom is plain to read,
when winds wheel dark clouds, blue days to assail,
when all our plans seem stalled, devices stale,
when, white-faced, feel our very senses bleed,
when summer's sliding down a grey recede,
and time's a bear, roaring a winter's tale.
Yet deep down starts a theme, begins in tears;
so strong it is, it lifts the sagging head,
refuses resignation, casts out fears;
subvocally it resonates till ears
hear it like a hands-free, loud, yet unsaid;
and smiling through the crowd we bear our years.
..
ESTÁS LEYENDO
Keep The Home Fires Burning
PoesíaA poetry Collection. Now Lunk has taken to his bed, swearing not to write one more word about C, and muttering 'bloody garden', it behoves (Love that word, don't you?) me (and Anima) to fill out his shoes, with soil and flower seed. So we will be 'e...
