By kevin urenda
Date: 21 October 1998

First Sonnet

The ‘context’ for this tale of woe
Belongs to he who shed the blood
Perhaps it is that he should go
To drown himself within its flood

I know not how I came to be
Within the ‘texture’ of this place
Inspired I let some poems free
And saw in words a smiling face

But now I turn my back to go
And leave behind that which was good
My glass house shattr’d by stone’s throw
My heart used for some other’s food

To repair the breach I successful tried
But a part of my sad heart has died