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All English Sonnets


Sometimes I think, the past is glorified,
Unjustly, its importance is inflated.
And preset is unjustly denigrated
Mysteriously berated and decried.

And oft I wonder why we common folk
Demolish present pleasures for the past
And with exaggerations often clock
Imagined and forgotten moments lost.

Or is it possible we reminiscence
With pleasure battles joined fears won
To appreciate their hidden excellence
And tend to forget pains and done

And this way are then able to retreat,
To showdowns of the past- bitter sweet.

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