Précioux (Sonnet 459)
Have you seen, heard of, or known love like this?
She came with autumn rain’s drumbeat, echoes
Of angelic thunder, myriad wings
Folding, snapping, praising her nascent dreams.
One chubby hand reached out to grasp that one
Lone feather floating by her bed. Today,
That loving gift transfers her silken words
From page to sweetest imagination.
Heaven sent you, Beauty, that I may long
For life with passion, color, and fragrance
Soaring sightings so you share surely
That I should love her is no mystery.
That she love me is beyond belief
And my moist eyes are mute acknowledgment.
© 2017 David W. Palmer