This is my first sonnet, and it’s for anyone who loves my crochet and/or unrequited love. I apparently am skilled in either subject.
The cord when stretched desires for the blade,
And to the sound of scissors near it list’s.
So tight was twine’d since day that it was made.
Such tension more akin to pain than bliss.
Now I with violet hook do further spin
And form to patterns beautiful in woe
The yarn, with freedom yearning there within.
How longs it for the shears of Atropos!
So too my soul is caught with hook to line;
Bound up so close with no surcease in view.
My thoughts, all knotted, seek to flow with thine -
My tangled dreams are filled with only you.
Unknot, untie, unravel me, cut free!
You will not love? Then by gods, let me be!
Copyright (C) Vox Mortuum 2011