A Part of Me
Beached leaves softly wave, caressing hardness,
Where is thy curse and frown, where thy error?
For now, thou art my rock and courier,
Blind I am to thy odorous harshness;
Wilt thou go here, wilt thou progress,
Stayed mountains remind me of thy posture;
Mine thoughts are thine emblem, thy true honour,
But thou art my privilege, my duress;
Understanding is unashamed surely,
To know thy way is pure, brave and golden,
To be seated, conscious with standards moral,
Is mine elevation to worlds trusty;
Transparent, plain, and in no way hidden,
Thy face to me is quite convivial.
Poetry form: Italian sonnet, abbaabbacdecde
29/10/2015
Copyright © Dominique Webb | Year Posted 2015
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