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“Saturday Sonnet by Stewart Stafford The Bard once wrote that love is blind, Desire’s muslin cloth veils the eyes behind, As a hog for truffles nosing in dirt, The human sniffs out a way to flirt, Flippant words become overture, And a dungeon-dweller emerges pure, Love’s great story blossoming anew, Past indiscretions in a penitent’s pew, Hearts as one, a confluence of minds, Time to think of the tie that binds, Sure of footing and glad of heart Wheels turning on a bridal cart, Handsome husband, pretty wife, Set out together in this thing called life. © Stewart Stafford, 2021. All rights reserved.” — Stewart Stafford
Saturday Sonnet by Stewart Stafford
The Bard once wrote that love is blind,
Desire’s muslin cloth veils the eyes behind,
As a hog for truffles nosing in dirt,
The human sniffs out a way to flirt,
Flippant words become overture,
And a dungeon-dweller emerges pure,
Love’s great story blossoming anew,
Past indiscretions in a penitent’s pew,
Hearts as one, a confluence of minds,
Time to think of the tie that binds,
Sure of footing and glad of heart
Wheels turning on a bridal cart,
Handsome husband, pretty wife,
Set out together in this thing called life.
© Stewart Stafford, 2021. All rights reserved.