Sonnet 27
The world to me is not that much a place
Of peace and love, though lavender and lust
Tempts me to twist and turn away from grace
And of her world, my heart she can not trust
Dear love, my dear, shall lies be thy abuse?
As I desire the richness of her oil
Violence dost wrath, yet violets seduce
My sins to surge and slip into her soil
Passions do rise from natures spinning wheel
The likeness of forbidden fruit in fire
Holding your hand, your heart I could not heal
As if another world I did admire
Methinks my mind has wounds from being whirled,
And I an eye that blinks blind through the world
Copyright © Johnny Sumler | Year Posted 2011
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