A friend of old today I saw again.
No longer young and bright of age was he,
Yet less did time change he than most of man
For in his heart was purpose same to be.
When through the course of times stayed rested I,
Forever standing was this stubborn friend.
While all the fickle days I lived a lie,
So ever firm was he and firm to end
For clear to him was all the life he knew.
Through all the days, he did sustain me so
Because for reason, he had reason true
To be resigned from plagues of all we know.
So finally, confesséd I to Chair,
“Oh, Chair! I envy thou who’s always there!”
Tags: sonnet
This entry was posted on Thursday, October 22nd, 2009 at 8:33 pm and is filed under Poetry. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
