Sonnet 27/11/00                                CDXCII

Are words all I may offer, to bring smile
To muse who brings those words out of my heart?
So far away, it is not just the mile
That measures distance: Years I've practiced Art
Now stand as barrier to further gift.
Yet, I would that my verse seal out the hours
To hold those moments when my muse might sift
Fingers through leaves, or seek the scent of flowers.
Maiden, mother, crone- Do I in muse seek
To turn back time, or hold to fate? I ask,
But fear the answer. Heart would have me speak,
Though I would not this muse's light now mask.
I pray heart and desire might know the Truth,
But fear it, for I know no longer Youth.