In A Pique

Sonnet

In these deep woods, poetry brews rich dark

Like dark coffee, acidic on tongue_cheek

I could say deep dark remarks on tales embark

Write poem, for you have put me in a pique

 

From the deep, dark forest draw ravens black

Let them feed upon your brain's carrion

For it is dead, vile, let them eat your flack

Your cadaver brain is barbarian

 

Refined gracious lady keeps loving

Her spirit turns blind eye to all faults

Nearly all faults, learning to be accepting

Even when bombarded with rash insults

 

These dark wood forgive your wrong thinking

Deep in heart its impact still affecting

Reviews

[Emma Joy]

Writing out angry feelings is such a good thing; tis far better than letting anger and all fester inside. Your hurt is so obvious; God willing, you feel more comfortable and peaceful now.

The dark font and sonnet form create something lasting, as ever your'e the gifted poet.

[Craig Froman]

Both beautiful and biting, you confess a pain and darkness in this tender form of writing... You really are a remarkable writer, both in vision and form.