Sonnet

 

 

                                Strings may measure things of the heart

                                Jangling chords of emotive rhythm

                                Encased in flesh of solid sounding art

                                Beating its rapturous percussive hymn

 

                                And if by slight of a tragical perchance

                                Shadow darkens soul’s enlightened path

                                Life itself is that magical poetic dance

                                Unfolding truth before falsehood’s wrath

 

                                The song of a nightingale and dawn lark

                                Writ heavenly music’s orchestral word

                                Cherishing those flights of light and dark

                                Incandescently lingering upon each chord

                                The cherished soul of poetry often brings

                    Beauty from the sphere of all eternal things.