Sonnet 28

Posted in quatorzain by maggie on 2007/02/19

The treasures in my safe deposit box
(which I don't have, except as metaphor)
are little more than normal dirty rocks
(like those you'd only kick out your back door)

compared against those real pearls you display
(in every smile, each gesture, every glance)
that cast new light across my world of gray.
(My dear friend, may my heart have your next dance?)

I've felt it, soul and word, I won't deny
(although why I'd deny it, I can't guess)
except I still don't know the hell quite why.

My one hope is to give you in return
(even if no more than one caress)
the half of what your touch has helped me learn.

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One Response

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  1. maggie said, on 2012/02/03 at 08:18

    I recall when this was originally posted, and where it came from, and where you were going.

Sincere comment by readers who accept responsibility for their words will earn my appreciation and response.

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