Thinly Veiled a sonnet |
You live the poem that fires my soul, A seamless, intertwining ode, in language too sublime For tongue, an angel’s ears, or hand to scroll, If one were so inclined, as I, to share a song transcending time. Embroidered silk, so thin, the veil, Upon which your sweet spirit rhymes the textures Of your life and dreams: The child’s first Spring, a fairy tale, New mother’s* hope, the heart impaled; admixtures Of joy and despair, loss and gain, divine, mundane. At the flutter of your spirit, well up words I can’t contain. Would you call this dream Vanity, and hope for words more apt? — That within your ever-flowing, silken folds, I be enwrapped; Resonant, enraptured, thinly veiled from toe to head, Echoing the piercing heat of every pulsing thread. * alternately woman’s |
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