Monday, February 02, 2004
Sonnet to the Return of Love
Softly, sadly, sleeping love After making troth anon Will the centuries clamor? Can the fortunes cast fate so As to ripen, laden trove? Such that love makes envious, sun; Stutter songster, fool stammer; Brittle bouyant bough; to go A-full once more in hamlets' Discovery of that bliss swoon; Sweet, yet brighter than comet's Sparky tail; to jealous moon? While heaven in earthly mull Alleves ... bring Cupid's past to full. |