Tre SonnetA Poem by Tam WarinkA loving duty.
Look now fresh, dost she disdain he who calls her
And in time repairs where tillage be so fond? In thy world, whose face so fair will yet inure Her self-love in yon looking glass be oft bond? Tell that face and form that beguiles the world, Whose husbandry calls unto mother April, Despite her lovely wrinkles be unfurled Shall another unbless her prime in close drill. Thou should perchance renew thy holy mother Of the tomb that through ageless window chime Remembers fond an image of another But lives well beyond that moments golden time. Live thou not to be remembered as fair But till death, one who for thy mother cared. © 2013 Tam WarinkAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorTam WarinkHalf Moon Bay, CAAbout--- I am on a writing hiatus and RR's are turned off for now. If you want a review or simply my thoughts on something you have written send me an WC email. Thank you for understanding. ^_^ --- .. more..Writing
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