Sonnet Ten for Will

Heaven knows that you are not to blame
if someone’s base opinion vexes you:
one might as well insult your family’s name
as casts aspersions on your point of view.
They’ve slathered offal doubt upon the vast
and varnished surface of your certainty
till only fragrant censorship can mask
the awful stench of their perfidy.
If you’re offended by my surly pen,
or by my sullen utterance, it’s clear
that you should never speak to me again,
Your reaction’s quite in order, Dear.
How can anyone forgive the sting
when someone dares to question anything?

Now I am Speaking As I Can

Now I am speaking plainly as I can,
and you can listen later if you like:
no time for me to ask if I was wise
to trust that words would hurry to my side
once I was ready. Now is not the time –
for I am speaking plainly as I can,
and you can listen later if you like -
to ask if I am close, and will be safe
though help is not exactly on the way.
Now is not the time to stop and trace
the history of where I used to be.
Now is not the time for back and forth
by definition. It is much to ask,
but I am speaking plainly as I can,
and you can listen later if you like.

Sonnet Nine for Will

By sorrow seized, by sear rejection stung -
but no more disappointed in this chance
than night in darkness: I'm not overcome
by feckless whim, or disaffection's lance.
I wept for Eden when I was expelled,
and longed for dawn throughout this bitter night,
but I was not surprised when shadows fell,
and I am not crestfallen by a plight
as blunt as exile. Here's my last approach
upon this twist of points I wish to make -
Silence may betoken mere reproach;
who holds her tongue does not her ears forsake -
She's leaving me, and I will surely grieve,
but I have always known that she would leave.

Sonnet Eight for Will

If I could coax two words that nearly rhyme
out of this poorly-wired little brain,
I might beguile my doubts that this sublime
and over-hopeful course can be maintained.
If I had grit, I’d turn my flabby will
into some mighty muscles - I would stretch
before I was required to sit still,
and turn these airy notions into text.
I could lament the days I burned to ash,
but lamentation brings no saving grace
I could consign this doggerel to the trash,
and flee from self-deception’s stale embrace –
and then again, I just might spend the night
re-writing this damn thing until it’s right.

Sonnet Seven for Will

I pray October is as brisk, as fair
and bountiful as ever for us, Heart.
September was a beauty full of care;
November may be fair, or it may start
with indications that rough winds will blow
from dark December to a cold New Year.
We are together long enough to know
that we are happiest when Summer’s sear
or humid nights are far behind us. Though
the light may linger on those warmer days,
a fair October evening’s walk with you
is better for my soul than Summer’s haze
and just as hopeful as a dozen Junes.
We have the falling leaves and bracing breeze
to keep our loving hearts at loving ease.

Sonnet Six for Will

If you would be deceived, then be appeased
by your own eloquence: your wishful lines
of demarcation, overheated screeds,
or under-whelming explanations. Fine
to buy some time by slowing down some shrew
who seeks to skew your meaning with her sense
of no-direction, - who is she to you? -
but even your most petulant defense
will not excuse a self-deception. Lie
to busy-bodies: do not make them bold
with information. But you must not try
to fool yourself. There's misery untold
awaiting you as you retrace your lies,
and see you have betrayed yourself besides.

Sonnet Five for Will

My lover truly loves me, but it’s true
she won’t believe that I could love her more –
Or even much. She is my retinue
by her own doing: why must she abhor
the thought that I would be her right hand man?
I’d shield her from the brutish, roasting rays
of that obnoxious star. I'd cool the sand
with my thick shadow lest it fry and flay
the milky flesh from her superior frame.
Much more than this attention I would pay
if she would call me by another name
and not my formal appellation. Say
that I am friend and lover, dearest bride,
and I will rarely ever leave your side.