Boon-Giver
Sonnet — An Invocation to the Master #298
Published on March 16, 2022
Boon-Giver
Sonnet — An Invocation to the Master #298
What remains for our colloquy yet to be
When is plain in a hundred brazen excesses
Thy transgressions on the person of me,
Healing one ill by a hundred wrongs!
What quaint heaven inhabits Thy personage?
Dost Thou keep a storm to fan Thy chamber,
Savour in pause a song of the Fury’s rage,
Keepest for pet a thousand-fanged ire?
Or dost Thou tire of a sterile unmanly peace,
Thy war-moods abhorring every serenity?
Dost Thy will itch to spill a little omnipotence
In winds that lead us away from normalcy?
I tire of Thy gifts O my bounteous Boon-Giver,
Allow me a corner in Thy chamber to linger.