Sonnet
What causes love to hammer at my heart?
What need is this demand to procreate?
What meteorite has pierced me with its dart?
What bells are chiming as I contemplate?
It’s not a god who calls me to repent
And not my conscience that demands a clone;
Nor did your eyes demand me to attend
Where I have need and fear to be alone.
You are the chosen other of my dreams
Whose every cell projects perfection’s choice,
Where you exist in love’s created schemes
To wear a queen’s tiara perfect poise.
You are the cause and the effect of all;
An archetype’s quintessence to enthral.
© Joe Lake
No comments:
Post a Comment