“Poetry is the synthesis of hyacinths and biscuits.” Carl Sandburg


Monday, April 15, 2013

Sonnet - This is Love?

   
Poets love to write of love. What is love?                  
Wild nights, wild nights, ecstasy and desire              
Mouths that cling, lean bodies of heat, afire      
With animal lust. Hormones just won’t quit.  
Poets love to rave of love. What is love?                 
Beer and rock music, June nights! Youth’s ardor   
Riding inferno’s fires, higher, higher                           
Till firestorms of desire are spent.  Unlit.               
This is love? This is all? Oh, heart bereft,                                 
Oh, rash thought. Any fool can fall in sex.                                               
It is more, much more than this. Love’s what’s left           
Of glowing coals, smoldering in each breast,                        
Contented as a cat’s purr.  Does this vex?
Think, then, how things that touch your soul are best.  
 


 


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