Sunday Sonnet!

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Their innocence, a gemstone of delight,
Irradiating sparkle on one’s face,
Disarming, putting woebegone to flight,
A veritable avenue of grace;
Untinted eyes perceive the extant world,
Evoking response in untainted mind,
As though it were ensign of truth unfurled,
With no intent in heart to be unkind;
Alas, the mores of culture infiltrate
Virginal thought and speech of little ones,
Instinctual honesty to dislocate,
Preventing them from being truthful scions.
Embedded in the deeper consciousness,
Resides the need to speak the truth, no less.

©Meanderings 2018

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Sunday Sonnet!

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Arresting fragrance muted crowded room,
Attention on maid at messiah’s feet,
Her tears and flowing hair his feet entombed,
Which gesture overflowed with love replete;
Such costly unction could sustain the poor,
Appalled, said he who held the common purse,
Let Be! Few can the master more adore
Save she who pending future here rehearse;
Has ever such devotion been displayed,
Or heartfelt passion bared for all to see?
Societal niceties she disobeyed,
Deigning in honesty herself to be.
Devotion from the heart on treasure spent,
Its selfless sacrifice shall ne’er lament!

©Meanderings 2018

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