A Sonnet In Return

Tonight you offered me two precious gifts:

Your sonnet and your passion, each a part

Of you others neither know nor have missed,

Content with their safe places in your heart.

Still, they are dear to you, and they are real

In all the ways our lives will not allow.

And yet I wonder how they fail to feel

This fierce desire that overwhelms you now.

 

You have made of me a lover of words,

Writing the only life and love of you

I may have.  And in my words you have heard

The only passion you know to be true.

Here is where we are both revealed and real,

Deep in desire, nothing left to conceal.

 





Poetry by countryfog
Read 573 times
Written on 2012-06-06 at 16:58

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Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Well done, Fog, and well said. I imagine that many of us show up here because there are parts of us which we would rather not share with those we see every day.
2012-06-10


Elle The PoetBay support member heart!
I am not a fan of sonnet I will admit as I often find it forced, yet this could not but make me realise the pleasure. A lot of modern sonnets are like a form of exercise - so thank you for this and I still won't try one as I know I would be rubbish at one - but I do appreciate beautiful writing :-) I truly enjoyed, thank you

Elle x
2012-06-06


Brian Oarr
Very nice!

Of you others neither know nor have missed,

Almost an echo of Thomas Hardy in the way you shaped these words.

Brian
2012-06-06


josephus The PoetBay support member heart!
Oh, my friend this is so intimate and loving that I fear to comment; feeling like a voyeur. It is magnificent in its style, structure and language. I can say nothing more.

BRAVO!

Joe
2012-06-06