Sonnet 38 'I Write So Often of My Wife, Because'
I write so often of my Wife, because
She was a fire-bringer to the World.
And everywhere she went, went Peace, like gauze
That wrapped those burned by furies at them hurled.
Extraordinary, she, who was unbent
By all the winds that blew against her face.
She thought each small delight, by Heaven sent,
And counted each ‘good’ day, as ‘twere a grace.
But I alone knew all her quiet shape,
Could trace on paper now, her puzzled brow,
And… all the things she said, I used to ape…
It hurts my heart to think upon them, now.
I think, that every man, for his dear Wife,
Does hold her benefit so ranked, as Life.
3/26/2019
Copyright © Andrew Fairchild | Year Posted 2019
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