Sunday Sonnet!

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Elusive as proverbial pot of gold,
Convincing as conjurer’s sleight of hand,
Untarnished truth, becloaked remains untold,
Subverted gemstone hidden in the sand.
By self-serving seductive wiles betrayed,
Maltreated with dismissive disregard,
Morality, herself is left dismayed,
Perception of veracity is marred.
Lo, constant chronos waves his silent wand,
Outlasting vanity’s ephemeral wares,
Attending patiently at destiny’s hand.
When reaper parts the wholesome wheat from tares.
What needs be known shall ne’er remain unknown.
Unsullied pearl of truth none can dethrone.

©Meanderings 2018

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Sunday Sonnet!

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Then came a gentle whisper on the wind,
Angelic in its velvet undertone,
Like magical ethereal wunderkind,
Emerging from a faraway unknown:
‘What ails your troubled spirit, now? she asked,
And brushed my furrowed forehead with a kiss;
Leaving my meek, defenceless mien unmasked,
Her touch seduced me share what was amiss;
‘Confounded by Tomorrow’s dark unknown,
Deception would my hapless thoughts assail!’
In soft, mellifluous chords her voice intoned:
‘Distracted mind of ancient wit avail –
From shackles of disquietude walk free,
What is to be, Good Grace shall oversee!’

©Meanderings ’17

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