Tonight's Poet Corner: Sonnet Solstice #305
Yes, This Is Madness
by Belinda Roddie
Yes, this is madness: Rich and brimming from
the cup of life, encrusted with bright gems
all pulled from rings, the bands left on each thumb
and forefinger of kings whose fickle dreams
keep them still longing for treasures of old.
I wrinkle up each letter to my wife,
and though I know her heart is built from gold,
it grows too heavy to carry in life,
and so I shall discard it soon enough.
Do not think me a failure in marriage,
but instead a scarecrow that has been stuffed
with mud and salt that's far too thick to dredge.
I waver in the field of my own mind,
forgetting all the loves I left behind.
by Belinda Roddie
Yes, this is madness: Rich and brimming from
the cup of life, encrusted with bright gems
all pulled from rings, the bands left on each thumb
and forefinger of kings whose fickle dreams
keep them still longing for treasures of old.
I wrinkle up each letter to my wife,
and though I know her heart is built from gold,
it grows too heavy to carry in life,
and so I shall discard it soon enough.
Do not think me a failure in marriage,
but instead a scarecrow that has been stuffed
with mud and salt that's far too thick to dredge.
I waver in the field of my own mind,
forgetting all the loves I left behind.
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