The Last Sonnet

not a sonnet

Mysterious scene set up before me

More languid than false memory might list

No one will rest to heckle the weary

I’ve been here before, I’ve never seen this

Foreign fields beset me like glittering

Gold and fortune, I feign rather not

Wishful words won’t save me from withering

Sonnets won’t complete these half-way thoughts

There’s no right imagined in mind to ponder

And what can I do when lost but wander

Reviews

[Neville]

Write up my street too... your keen sense of humour had me smiling to myself for ages before I felt compelled to leave well deserved positive feedback......... not a sonnet.... comes close tho...... Neville

[Chris Shaw]

I love the rhythm and rhyme in this poem. Write up my street. Thank you Alexis

Chris