sonnet 2 of 1018...


                 Sonnet 06/12/73        To an Angel's Child        II

                Love is like a summer flower; wind-blown
                Petals, frost-thin, fragile, enveloping,
                Enclosing hearts with such pleasures as known
                Only to angels, who joyfully sing
                Out their souls. But earthly mortals cannot
                Fully comprehend such abstract ideals,
                Being here only now, so soon to rot
                Away, like old leaves: We only can feel
                The human thoughts of pride and greed, not love,
                Since love is the total devotion for
                A single soul, for which we look above.
                For we may only look, as nothing more
                Than looks, such as angels' songs and love true,
                Can penetrate to earth, except to you.