365 Days of Poetry: Day Two-Hundred and Twenty-Seven

My attempt at a sonnet.

You are all I wish in love.
A writer, poet, musician, strong
As a bull, yet soft as a dove –
And so I weep with longing.
But there is joy, I often find
While swimming in a self-made sea.
We are a meeting of the minds.
And so, with you, I may be free.
I do not compare thee to a summer’s day.
That is too uncomplicated of a thought.
For describing our many turns of way.
And what we have long-bought.
You are the moon, you are the star,
You are my love, you are my art.


About June Faramore

Writer of fantasy, mainstream, and young adult fiction. Poet and sketcher. Mother. I read a lot and love cheese. Guitar playing singer-songwriter. I also enjoy stepping on the cracks in the sidewalk. View all posts by June Faramore

2 responses to “365 Days of Poetry: Day Two-Hundred and Twenty-Seven

  • Sylvia Baxter

    Reminds me:

    i didn’t write today
    of darling buds of may
    compare you to a summer’s day
    instead draw metaphors from lover’s vast array
    i didn’t write of wilting lilies in the heat
    of serene coolness in her shade
    of sweetness in love’s bitter mead
    a poison! watching her i swayed
    as she bows over virgin paper
    words wrought to sentences cascade
    i didn’t write today, instead i cheat
    steal words and pictures from the greater
    if this be err and upon me proved
    what can i say in defence, it was you i … loved

  • June Faramore

    Always a touch of sadness to yours dear…and I LIKE it.

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