Song of a Sonneteer
so long
ago
among
the lilies
of
an antique land-
smiling
still
with love
to show
that fairest
image
golden now
made
of truths
upright
as a pine
&
finely used
still
stands
such
willing eyes
&
closed lips
so
lately dismayed
by the
weary
chase
marked
by
shame
so beats
the heart
with a
momentary breath
well-contented
with
the measure
of the year
that
which is
of true mind
a delight
to call upon
where
mere
flesh
is
just
a
thought
Copyright © Brian Strand | Year Posted 2019
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