Unnumbered Sonnet
I seek the places where brave women are,
luminous and kind, mocking me playfully,
shelter and haven, these souls, harbour and home,
tall and sturdy trees in whose shade I rest.
I kneel to one such woman, beg for grace.
I fall into the heaven of her eyes
and weave deft sonnets to her majesty,
my pride as plush green grass kissed by her tread.
What happens when a woman wears the crown?
I pledge my loyalty. I bow my head.
I honour her with service and attention.
I plead with her to keep me safe. Instead,
she gives me strength to face life's turbulence,
she blesses me, sends me into the night.
Poetry by Uncle Meridian
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Read 127 times
Written on 2023-05-29 at 17:04
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