Poetry

Sonnet 55

Crazed creatures of dark delights

Have chased our dove to a distant land

Where they choke songs

By the strings of fear

In the forest of their delusion.

On their sand

They write macabre laws

Whose spectre stalks here.

Its teeth have mangled

The sparrow of my calm.

Let us pass this evening

Listening to a nocturnal crescendo

From a bird not afar.

In the silken cocoon of your touch

I shall be fully alive.

Our love shall become

The pulse of my new rhythm

In the night as it silently dies.

                                             ~Stephen Gill

                                                  Cornwall, Canada

2 Comments

  1. as always Dr Gill, your thoughts inspire and instill a certain calm and desire to make this beautiful earth a paradise with the spirit of extending the olive branch and your ‘dove of peace’
    beautifully composed