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This 'Heroic' Crown of Sonnets, I am posting as seven separate Sonnets, for ease of reading.  This is written with thanks to a fellow poet, who is most likely too modest to be mentioned, but whose great mastery is evident in everything he writes.

ONE

I come home, and she’s cooking in pajamas,
She’s overjoyed, she’s out of bed, at all!
She handled it with no qvetching, no dramas,
She wasn’t ill, but she was never well…
I smell rice, olive oil, garlic and onions,
She makes food simple, clean, wholesome to eat,
She weekly went to doctors – not for bunions!
She had long, skinny, happy, healthy feet!
I kiss her like I ne’er before have kissed her,
She hugs and lets me hold her by the door…
She dealt with life so wisely – how I’ve missed her!
She had to keep both feet firm on the floor.
I come home, and she’s in her fuzzy jammies,
SO beautiful, and cutting up salamis!

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