My precious one, you are a joy to me!
And when we talk, I feel so close to you.
So close—and yet I cannot hold your hand,
Or kiss your lips, or feel your fingers glide
Caressingly across my cheek and hair.
A piece of glass both joins and separates.
I touch it to send messages of love
And read upon its surface those from you.
Then from a thousand miles a thousand words
Shine through the glass! Accursed glass! For though
I see the face that I adore, no more
Than look, for when I touch, it feels like glass.
Forgive me. I should not ungrateful be.
We owe all our togetherness to glass.
Copyright © 2018 Abigail Gronway – All Rights Reserved
Scansion:
Blank Sonnet
Fourteen lines of unrhymed verse written in iambic pentameter
Such a wonderful and deeply romantic poem! Loved the way you portrayed “The Glass” as friend and foe, brilliant!
Especially, loved your last two lines!! MORE of these please??? Bellissimo, Bellissimo
xoxoxo
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Thank you very much, Chuck. Personally, this is a new favorite of mine. 🙂
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It is easy to see why! So beautiful on multiple levels!
xoxo
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I love this. Finale was great.
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Thank you 🙂
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Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet and commented:
Come see The Glass as friend and foe in this romantic love poem.
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Thank you for sharing this. 🙂
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