O Soul
Sonnet — An Invocation to the Master #303
Published on March 21, 2022
O Soul
Sonnet — An Invocation to the Master #303
What dire fascinations has thou sought O soul,
Wading into murk of earth like some maiden
In flush of amorous warmth seeks to cool
Her body in a pool to lascivious eyes hidden.
What fancies hast thou accumulated O soul,
Strutting thy immortality like a spoiled prince
Hopping through our lives flouting each rule
To not purchase adventure by pain’s price!
What incorrigible proclivities dost thou yet seek,
Satiates not an infinity’s worth of bliss?
What allure is in this marshy bog meek
That thou must perennially make entrance?
Much too spoilt thou art O soul,
With Him who coddles thee I must quarrel.