Your Racy Sonny

hard times for a mother to lose a child

A daydream, a sunrise
A lady in white with a smile
A gripe, protuberance
And a firm invoke
With intwined life and magic all around.

Iridescent inwrought
For the hale gristly guest
"To hallow our halfway..."--
Conversations with the magician--
Sauntering together, as the breeze, the light, the love hails.

Intrepid laudations
Would be Satyr or shy
Or our loving loquacious lordling.
Opine perspectives, singing dulcet prosodies
Only to find; presently joy was come deranged joyous brevity.

(...)

Orisons and lone organons
And the brazen empty scabbard.
Whoever depraved by a malice misread--
Overleaf the light loses crusade--
Didn't turn the page. I deride now all these sorry fables ne'er meant.

A greenish texture, a blue sky
A smutty pluvial crib unmoved
A rhapsodic, unfair unguent from heaven
And the lady toddles back home
To pass lachrymal laments and next stuffy night.

(...)

Here, he is, your racy Sonny;
Gaping you when both are eyes shut,
Facetious enchanter, with eternal lids apart,
Euphony while you would feed him with a ladle,
Growing up, for ever, with you, in a daydream under moonlight.

Author's Note

i'm not smone who would.. write on.. to such topics..
if..., i'm still a kid, i can't feel it