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Sonnet XXIII


Alas! You used to pour out lavish praise
For my fair face, my honey-colored hair,
My deep, blue eyes, and for my striking flair.
And O, my dearest one, I miss those days!

Before our golden world had gone awry,
We shared those many hours of lively fun.
Then, on that day we fought I was so stunned,
I thought the sun had dropped down from the sky.

Was it your aim for us to break our vows?
I felt mad as a hornet at it all!
And then the bitter tears began to fall.

Dear Love, let’s now draw up a truce somehow,
For I believe, wherever you may be,
You feel a numbing pain as much as me.

© 2000 Alice Park

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