Sonnet

Love bends over a yellow stalk of wheat, hope shields these grains her seed sowed, eyes corn poppies pearl-black, the inset stars discreet, worm-eaten flowers caste up a moment's prize. The sparkling cross-pollination of souls and minds of hearts cool, hot, tepid, passionate tears assigned. These aren't the sting-swollen eruptions she reminds- each bursting bloom, a blood vessel newly entwined. But gaze not blindly men at women's true-honest preserve its God's worn-out labour here on mother earth, cherished the brashest of bees can dance and thrash their verve and like the kneeling Sheppard, raise all the perished. As the yolk of a flower is but a set, weed as-he-the father must chaff out the wheat from the seed.