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Dawn Jig (Sonnet) by ?-Dave_Mysterious-? > Endless nights
unwind
in Paris.
The day
transpires
nonetheless.
What mercy can
you spare me,
on a cold
night like
tonight.
Perhaps
a jar
of brine, or just
a kiss.
Or nine.
A conch
sounds, whilst
a mime forms hollow gestures,
performed with niether
ordacity
nor finesse.
Apparently
.
Up the ladder:
The Bread O' Heaven
Down the ladder:
end of the engagement
Votes: (green: user, blue: anonymous)
Arithmetic Mean: 5.571429
Posted: July 14, 2004 3:59 PM PDT; Last modified: July 14, 2004 3:59 PM PDTWeighted score: 5.153681 Overall Rank: 5207 Comments:
[10]
Stephen Robins @ 213.146.148.199
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15-Jul-04/6:18 AM
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Reply
This is haunting enough to send a shiver down Christopher Reeves spine. 1--1
Could you explain how this gets to be called a sonnet???????????
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