Dearest Sophia (Italian Sonnet)

Shall I someday seem worthy in thy eyes? Thy eyes which burn my heart like stars ablaze, I crave thee more with each brief mortal phase, Thy absence makes me frail beneath my guise, But blind thou are to pain, deaf to my cries, I search for thee, lost in an endless maze, And each wrong turn a brazen bullet’s graze, Burning my flesh towards darkness in demise. Perhaps mere moments may make life worthwhile, To spend them in thy arms would be my goal, If only for a second feel thy smile, My love would fall to thee and I’d be whole, And swear thy honor never to defile By philosophy’s firm pledge of mind and soul. Philosophy – from the Greek roots Phil meaning to love, and Sophia meaning wisdom.

gene16180

My muse can be unseemly and nomadic although she fancies meter and good rhyme, her diligence and output are sporadic, and some may say she’s moving past her prime. At times she’s off consorting with the sages reflecting on existence, as it were, At...

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