mondays.

a single tear, will break your heart in two
this simple drop which forms and flies
fluttering in the zephyr, fading into forever
small and insignificant, this single tear.

and in our yesterdays i look for understanding,
for in this parting of ways there are no means
just sad melodic mondays filling the in betweens
and reflections of home calling my soul to come.

come home dear love, my heart is barren
and the mountain mist is low across the land,
come home dear heart, the spring awaits
for the gentle touch of your sweet hand.

you may have my mondays, and each year
a small cost i will gladly bear, this single tear.


greg

Cousin Greg, I was delighted to come here and to find this perfect and perfectly poignant, most meaningful and affecting sonnet this morning; it is exquisite, powerful, eloquent and touching in its directness and sincerity.

April, Eliot's cruelest month, has passed at last, but Monday is here again, and the big wheel turns until we are crushed, or so it feels so often, especially on lonely Monday mornings after April.

Thank you for your sonnet, and for your quietly powerful and much-appreciated presence here among us; I am so glad you are here.

Cousinly love, and respect from a fellow poet in unbreakable solidarity,

+Stevie

a small cost i will gladly bear, this single tear........


I love this. Its so mysterious!

g`day cousin, and welcome lolly, thank you for your kind comments, keep well, respect and love greg.

soothing sonnetry.

You certainly have a way with words. You were able to portray your ideas perfectly, and make us all feel part of your story. Good job!
misty