_attempt at a sonnet
A cuddled country voice nestles its'
Turbulent vibration deep in my skin
Land locked and dreading winters'
Icy fingers combing my body for oblivion
Tumultous currents rock us by and by
Leaving no one untouched by its madness
Isn't it funny how at death we still lie
Ne'er remembring that shadow of sadness
Indian Summer mentholates our lungs;
Our trembling throats mutter oceans
Long after sand castles are washed away, we've sung
The gritty ditties, fortifying our emotions
Dug in deep, foxhole country, warmth subsides
Blistering our memories where affection resides.