Petrarchan Sonnet
And drinking in your blues whose hurricanes
Are silent swirls that dance the windowpanes
Of paradise; I do not see their ruin
Or hear the heartache in your hopeful tune
Anticipating freedom from your chains
And rest from all the sin that still restrains
Your promised restoration, coming soon —
While you pen songs of me but not my scars,
See craters carved in this romantic glow
And think you know. You only know in part;
You have not seen my darker side — but stars
Have seen, and their Creator long ago,
That light bids even deepest dark depart.
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Originally posted at Poetry in Form in response to my own Seeing Sonnet guest prompt. Photo by NASA's Apollo 8 (public domain).
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