Thursday 4 January 2007

Sonnet

Would you compare me to a Summer’s day?
Not really, I suppose, if truth were told,
Not first thing in the morning anyway-
More like the end of Autumn: rumpled, old…
Perfection taunts me from a magazine
Where Truth is Beauty, Beauty wrinkle-free;
I wonder if you wish that I had been
A girl to make heads turn, instead of Me?
You snuggle closer, kiss me on the neck -
“I love you…” and of course, I know you do,
Despite the fact that I’m an ageing wreck.
“But what,” I say, “Would you compare me to?”

“Shall I compare you to this Summer’s day?”
You draw the curtains and the sky is…grey.

2 comments:

robinhl said...

What do you mean "failed poet"?!?
Gigi this is brilliant! Of course it's harsh, who enjoys not being 25 any longer!?
(I've got a matching sonnet, "The Squirrel in the Attic of his Brain", let me know if you want to see it.)
Not "failed" - but "not yet successful".
I lift my Diet Coke to toast your imminent success!

Andy Bonjour said...

Well done. I love the ending cuplet.
-Andy Bonjour
www.bonjourpoetry.com