Sonnet # 109

Amorous, treacherous, and fickle to the boot

A mistress like none other, a dame so divine

She hits you in the gut with a force too brute

A steel magnolia with graces too fine


Seemingly base, yet kinder to some

With tones and hues so many plus undefined

We hem and haw, lying in wait for her to come

To a point where she seems for what we pined


But it’s never to be so, trust you me when I say

Her form is nebulous, her love for you a trance

You buckle down hard, trying to hold her sway

She lures you into the fold of her eternal dance


A lingering rhythm is all you have to sing to your heart’s delight

For such is Life indeed, a colossal dusk en route to a little light



~ by eugenicist on February 4, 2017.

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