Sunday Sonnet!

🦋

When I of mortal treadmill take my leave,
A destiny no being can escape –
However much some would themselves deceive,
Or others, Fate’s arrival would reshape –
All what-has-beens form part of who I am,
Be they of scaling hills or sliding downs,
Even when level living seemed a sham,
Or future promise be replete with crowns;
For what has gone before or what shall be,
Much not unduly spiced with deep regret,
Rich blessings from above shall set me free,
And lessons learnt I never shall forget;
We grow with every modicum of breath,
From birth, through life, until embraced by death!

©Meanderings 2016

🦋

Sunday Sonnet!

🦋

Speak to me gently when Life’s Light burns low
And hope of new tomorrows starts to fade,
I cannot bear to hear, ‘I told you so’,
Much less to have another me upbraid;
No need past failings, oversights recount,
Nor nourish feelings fountain of regret;
Too easily fine words concern discount,
Impeding gallant efforts to forget;
Much rather proffer understanding care,
By far more wholesome than disabling scorn,
Aware that none escape the tempter’s snare,
And all are left with misconduct to mourn!
That mortals, sans exception may feel free,
Speak gently, always, to yourself and me!

©Meanderings 2017

🦋