A Weighted Wait
ROUGH DRAFT #1 ~ 0 ~ ENGLISH SONNET ~
The eyes he laid on Grace made weak his knees
His love a pure undaunted quiet start
She sways her dress beyond the stance of trees
He longs to speak and bring her close to heart
Her life he clings for nay of which she flaunts
Held tight because he knows of love ‘n hate
So close he smells her skin in dreams she haunts
He holds a vice the grip of twice his weight
No urge is strong enough to speak unkind
Yet knaves and serfs be cruel the ‘morn in spring
He wills to fight beyond his passive mind
Too late for Grace a waif the knell will sting
He feels at last she’s burned in both his eyes
Her stance of trees he walks alone and cries
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By April Lynne Logue
© 2008 April Lynne Logue
(All rights reserved) The poem above was written for the Form Over Substance Challenge
where we're reviewing Bronze Dragon's and Rain-spirit's top ten
favorite forms!
This week is No. 10, form above is either:
English Sonnet
Nove Otto
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