Sunday Sonnet For ‘T’!

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We ask not why a young life should endure
Such ravishing affliction, as this maid,
Nor doubt this malady lies in your cure,
Although misgivings render us afraid;
Like budding rose awaits its summer bloom,
Her teenage aspirations know no bounds,
Yet, now her future seems to presage gloom,
And suffering the highest hopes confounds;
In humble supplication we implore,
In deference to your most Beloved Son,
As much as we His legacy adore,
May, in the end, your Gracious Will be done –
Pray, grant release from hope-devouring pain,
That she her young life’s vigour might regain!

©Meanderings 2017

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