Oh Be Still Foolish Heart (Sonnet): Slowly, softly, it seeps, waiting to explode. Her foolish heart will always be singing, Haunting melancholia, venom plateaued. Lately sleep deprived, and always stringing. Insomnia has become her heart’s fellow Jarring serenade so vacuous Of her love’s bemused, sporadic bellow Love equivocal, is arduous! But her heart still throbs although, exhausted. The courtesan’s prowl to be wooed too, Will never by she, torment plagued, be accosted. Although she pulled, the cord that twined the two, Her once jocund heart, in placidity, Is sinewed, by his love’s acidity.
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Glen
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junebug18
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