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Click hereIt is all presumption. That thinking. Know
this: pain is no more than a moment's kiss
of sorrow. Manipulate me. Ebb. Flow
with the tides of day. Time passes and bliss
is not stationary, but mutable.
I am a breeze. I wind about the trees,
and my logic is irrefutable.
It doesn't exist. I'll drift in my seas
of belief. Believe what you please. I'm here
and there. Love is real or not. Do you care
about me? It's naught but words. Have no fear
of this. I'm metaphor, dust mote in air,
warmed by sun and yes even now his arms
lift me up. Our secret world. No alarms.
and if I hadn't seen that comment, I don't think I would have noticed that it was a sonnet. It's sonnet lite. :)
I was so wrapped up in the beautiful words and wonderful flow I didn't even notice that. Now that's what I call wordsmithing artistry...great stuff.
Such a smooth and easy sonnet, not an easy form to make so fluid. Lovely and wistful, like an autumn day. Looking forward to more from this poet.
I saw a version of this in the passion thread and made a mental note to keep an eye on you. I much enjoyed readiny your poem. Thank you. I even read it three times. The sounds combine so nicely, and the paradoxes? paradoxi? pulled me back looking for another way. nice