Inspired by a friend, I have decided to try my hand at writing a sonnet. This may be a foolish attempt – in fact, I feel quite intimidated – but what the heck . . .
The Seas
Of seas roar’d and toss’d, in semblance of fury,
Where depths hint at life and feed connection.
Porcelain hands speak of lust and worry;
It steals my breath and echoes rejection.
My own can hold back the spindrift in time,
But it scrapes my heart; left chisel’d again.
The stars shine upon a man in his prime,
Shackl’d by fortune; the wings of the wren.
But fate is troubl’d; lost uncertainty.
For the tenebrous, the twilight, the dawn.
The soft lilt of calm feeds the will to see,
That my fool’s tarot was lost all along.
Spent eternity toss’d amidst the fray,
But still in the shallows, my bones won’t sway.
James W. Lackie 