Faraway Sonet

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  • Love

    Faraway Sonet

    Even wasps remember faces.

    Why can’t yours appear in my mind?

    Slowly disappearing in traces

    but they’re neither yours, nor mine.

     

    I forgot you; please, forgive me.

    Other man has grabbed my heart.

    He is eager just to see me –

    our love is not so hard.

     

    It is hot, my soul is burning -

    like in hell it’s just returned.

    But it’d rather light for turning

    there’s something left – not burnt.

     

    I am his and he is mine,

    our love is so divine!

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    A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    vessislava’s Poems (3)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    The Fisher Seller 0
    Faraway Sonet 0
    haiku (chestnuts) 0