Contours Cyhydedd Fer Sonnet
Contours make a fool of your eyes,
shadows smile wearing a disguise.
Split-second metamorphosis,
too quick to ever reminisce.
That alabaster train floating,
the gal with her sweetheart doting.
What was it I thought I just saw?
Blink and miss nature in the raw.
Paint-drops on the world around us,
broken polish will cause a fuss.
Shivering when they juxtapose,
a mirage of silhouettes grows.
With the Earth’s rotating vision
blurry lines find their precision.
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