42,

nope

76 of 200...


Sonnet 27/05/03                            DCCCXXIV

What would this Sunday bring to muse? A gift
Of quiet time, and love? Or does she slave
Upon her toils, to clean and fold and lift,
To earn at cost of energies dreams gave?
I cannot change the weather, nor her tasks,
To give muse time to dream, or write, or read.
I have only my verse to send, that asks
Desires: What might I give that she might need?
Would I might share my hours, and give muse time,
That she would write more of her dreams, and share
Reasons to smile. Yet, my desires but climb
Upon the clouds: My dreams anchor in air.
I should not talk of time, nor of desire:
I must give all to muse that dreams inspire.