Sonnets

And now, for more about sonnets. Not that I have spoken about sonnets before, but it is more added to what Dr. Sexson talked about. In fact, it involves doing exactly what Dr. Sexson talked about.

This evening I completed the first sonnet I am giving to someone. This one is not, unfortunately, anonymous, as it's meaning depends on it being attached to me, but the others will be (I have six planned, but I rarely do all I plan to do). There will be further reports as I get responses to this sonnet (and the others, as they go out), but without further (or really any) ado, here it is:

Friendship: A sonnet

The book of lives of man is new an ope’
And to the weary page I rest my eye
And see your story laid in healing hope,
Not how once thought, but rather as must be.
I took upon myself that restless trip,
To heart and mind and soul, the way to find
For joining earth to heaven’s loving grip,
To walk the wounded right in way of mind.
And now the final curtain here does close
On us not, but on this act of our play,
Now actors’ part their ways, their words morose
For all to hear, as falls this living day.
And yet I think my heart is not yet sad,
For still I count those past moments as glad.