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All English Sonnets


I kept on keeping on and looking ahead.
No backward glance, no slyly looking behind,
But something had misfired, for, instead,
Of joyfulness, I felt it was a grind.

The pagdandies, I footed, paths I traced.
The waterways I bridged( of every kind),
Because the means of travel( It is said),
Of antagonistic forces, who did find,

My back exposed to stab, and as I bled,
Without a protestation, bitch or bind,
They took me to be dead and quickly fled,
By furtive, secret methods, undefined.

I have a gargantuan regret in mind.
I could have looked and should have looked behind.

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