Transcendental Sonnet #771:
Burning

Teddy thought that he smelled marijuana
But it was not it was a saucepan fire
Here where I am both flora and fauna
Here in the crucible of my desire

Here where I fend for myself in this house
Of ghosts for my children and for my Maus
I fend for the future fend to defend
My soul against the fire which does not end
Would it had been weed instead of burnt beans
The smoke still lingers whatever it means

With windows open and with fans turning
I wait for indoor clouds to drift away
But can I ever escape the burning
Which burns inside of me each night each day?

*~ ( + ) ~*

+Steven Curtis Lance

Copyright MMIV The Steven Curtis Lance Irrevocable Trust

Steven,

You took a pan of burned beans and turned it into a great sonnet! I bet Teddy loved this one!

Love,
Dara

Hmmm....I think I was reading more deeply into this than I should have been, but it got a pretty strong message across to me. As always, it was a pleasure to read.

No, Megan, you were reading it quite correctly!

These sonnets of mine, even when they are funny on the surface, are quite serious inside. There is always an outside and an inside.

(Isn't that funny what "anonymust" said to you? Yep, that +Steven! Hahaha)

Thanks for your reply; it's really nice to see you hereabouts again!

AD ASTRA PER ASPERA