Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, A SONNET, by POLLY HOPKINS


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

A SONNET, by                    
First Line: Speak not again of love - it is too late!
Last Line: Love's ecstasy. A boon, my sweet? I do not dare.
Subject(s): Brokers; Sonnet (as Literary Form)


Speak not again of love . . . it is too late!
Pretense no longer conjures up a spell,
Nor honeyed words that are no parallel
With your last cruel speech, can compensate
For broken vows.
Unbridled thoughts of hate
Have claimed your loving heart, yet in my own
Great pity dwells for you, though love has flown.
Your promise had no meaning to translate.

You ask a boon of me? You will atone?
Perchance you see the moonlit garden where
We pledged our troth; smell roses fully blown;
Hear songs of nightingales, drink summer air
Dew-swept and rare. Till then, I had not known
Love's ecstasy. A boon, my sweet? I do not dare.





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