Friday, June 28, 2013

A Sonnet To My Belovéd, That Deserveth More









That My Other Work M ay Be 
By My Belovéd 
Blest

a sonnet 
by a female Faust


Aß difficult to be who I would be,
Belovéd, iß like unto compoßing ßonnet fit
in meta from, aß well aß forfor thee;
( though, an thou ßeest, thiß be writ).

For when reigning in the myriadß reßplendent
Ideaß begotten by thy wit upon my thought
I find them all collapßéd, lame, dependent
And quite unqualified to function aß they ought.

Myßelf I do conßider thiß brave compliment
though eaßily it ßeemeth the reverße
for though thiß sure redoundeth to my detriment
I alßo know that no attempt at all iß worße

...So... have I therefore worked about aß hard upon it,
aß have I yet on any -- finißhed --  ßonnet




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