Just a playful piece sparked by loving, playful friends. . .


Sonnet 113 To a Bonny Rare Bit


Alas and – Ahh, alack, no tongue –, no sound
to speak those words of love, of boundless joy
A lass should speak, a lack of which she found
could not would not reach her bonnie boy.

Oh, woe is me, that whom I wish to woo (see?)
lies all too far across the briny deep
the lad be I, the bonnie lass be you, (thee)
whil'st respite only found in restless sleep.

But wings of both shall carry loving pair
up-buoyed by such their faith and hope in each
that hand in hand, their wings, through aether air
shall bear them safe where demons dare not reach.

Let time and Fate be kind to bonnie Kate
allowing bonnie boy to be her mate.




Sonnet by NotaDeadPoet
Read 548 times
Written on 2007-01-13 at 17:20

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I really liked this and I love the medieval language. I think there was a you in there that would have been better with thee though NADP!lol Smiling at you, Tai
2007-01-13