My Love (A Sonnet)

My love is like a budding rose.

She’s such a pretty little thing.

I like to look down at her toes.

Or gaze upon her goofy grin.

We’re quite a team together, see.

We always have a lovely time.

I’ll tell you, confidentially.

Sometimes she helps me make a rhyme.

If I could do it all again,

I would not choose another one.

She is my lover and my friend.

A special kind of true woman.

It is as plain to me as that.

To her, I have to tip my hat.

A Sorry Excuse for a Sonnet

I want to write a song.

I don’t know what to say.

I hope it’s not too long.

I’m getting tired so today.

What would you like to hear?

Should it be something that rhymes?

Or should it be about my dear?

We don’t have interesting lives.

I might try hard to tell a story.

I might fail miserably, though.

Perhaps I’ll tell of fame and glory.

That just would be a lie, I know.

I’m not exciting as some men.

I rest my case, so say amen.

Gone Too Soon

Connecting the dots

Is hard sometimes

With those who are

No longer with us.

What would he have said

At that special time?

How would he have felt

When that happened?

I would like to ask him

For his advice.

I would like to hear him

Say something funny.

I wish he could have been

With me in the hard times.

I wish I could have been

With him in his.

I would have liked to say

How much he meant to me.

I wish I could have told him,

“Please, don’t go.”

If only things were different,

Tragedy didn’t happen,

Those who are gone too soon

Would know how special they are.

My wishes don’t change

Reality, I’m afraid,

But maybe he can hear me

Calling his name.