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All English Sonnets


I deal in whispers and in whispers sing:
No more the loudness of words for me,
No more, my fingers, fiddling with the string,
No more , for me, the noisy, vagrant spree,

No more the chanting praises of each deity,
No more of howling, wailing in self pity;
No longing for the favors, still refused,
No more repentance for the time misused;

No more of gilded, golden, grand splendor
Which ended up in pieces, shattered lay,
And left me panting, writhing in dismay:
But, for me, only silent, muted wonder

At allness of His person, great, divine
And deathless, fleeting emptiness of mine.

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