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All English Sonnets


The hardship that is waiting is like hell
An eerie sense of doom oh dear! prevails
From dawn to dusk; each hour tolls the bell
Of wired torments, courage badly fails.

And waiting, love, if nothing is at par
With bringing, like Farhad, to the dyke
The channels full of milk. How bizarre
Is this metaphor! Listen if you like.

This Milton mentioned on the waiting’s role ,
(“They also serve who only stand and wait”)
I call it highbrow thinking, hyperbole,
And those who have to wait, I curse their fate.

And waiting is like Dante’s burning place,
Self immolation or like death embrace.

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