SONNET 15 — In the heart of man
Inside each man, a heart of romance lies;
to spy crystalline, lake’s pure shimmer wind.
At crow’s caws, hear largo, not anguished cries;
to bow at beauty, not because you’ve sinned.
The heart beats full at soulful’s slightest touch.
His lover’s head leans slightly ‘gainst his chest
and never hath he felt that spark; nonesuch.
Never since, felt that spark and not been blest.
A snowflake melt a’morning stands him straight.
A crackling autumn leaf cross yards? a smile.
At cicada’s wistful song, he’ll slow and gape.
At spring’s first peeping song, he is beguiled.
Romance; it doth not come from song or deed
Nay, deep; where if you prick us, we doth bleed.
-David L. Stanley, April 2019.
