Another Viola

April 12, 2011 at 1:09 pm (Poetry, Sonnets) (, , , , , )

Look at me. Another lost Viola.

Sitting in disguise and quiet, secret love

To see him, ah! but to love him with a-

No. Don’t say passion. Don’t say smold’ring love.

I, Viola, must sit with patience,

Must sit and not be seen or heard or loved.

To break my promise would kill my conscience-

Would return me to that hated, dark flood.

That unholy night where my soul first lost

Those black times when my deeds were unguarded

I killed my dreams in regretted holocaust.

And now I wait, missing what I discarded.

Their sacrifice that I might learn anew

That grace still comes even when merits are few.

 

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Vines

March 10, 2011 at 8:17 am (Sonnets) (, , , , , , , , , , , )

For love, I gave my heart and lost my head.

One look from him was all that I desired,

But still I ran from him – dry-eyed, I fled.

Fear of the future, of secrets – I risked fire –

Soul burning agony. All for freedom.

But there was no freedom in that dark place –

More pain. More chains. More fear. And now, no him,

No love to save me, and so I must perish.

Perish pining, darkly burning in strife!

Regret consumed me. Overwhelmed my soul.

In wandering thoughts I laid down my life,

I let my wits away, and gave up control.

But my knight arrived and in his hand took mine –

Too late my mind was caught in sorrow’s vine.

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