Sonnet 8

I want to be calm, unflappable, poised,
maximum sang-froid, Cary-Grant-cool.
Still centre of the whatchamacallit.

An unruffled lake at dawn
in California’s high frost-dusted mountains.
An Anglican nun. Sister Mary. Sister Julia.

I would set the world's hot opinions
at less than zero and just be me.
Tell my inner critic-censor to shove off.

I wish that everything could just fall
naturally and easily into place.
No grousing, no groaning. No foul language.

Nothing but smooth paths and gentle breezes.
But life gets lifey, and I'm a scrappy bastard.

Poetry by Uncle Meridian The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 64 times
Written on 2023-02-20 at 08:51

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jim The PoetBay support member heart!
After all these years, decades, and reams of paper consumed, I still find the sonnet form the most engaging form (as a writer).

You use it well, naturally, a good fit.

Good luck with Anglican nun bit. The rest may yet fall "easily into place."


by Uncle Meridian