Be careful, oh, if you ask for your space,
For those who really love you will accede
To your request, e'en though more than a trace
Of pain is theirs. Real love gives what you need
If it trusts in your word. So thus to me
It's happened: earnestly a plea is made,
And earnestly believed and honored, see,
Despite the private tears. And as I'm bade,
I've backed off, promised so to calmly wait,
And, waiting, tried to go about my days
With bravery, then suddenly -- too late --
I find I've lost what most I'd deeply praised.
The accusation's laid down at my door:
Desertion and indifference, the score.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
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It's still amazing to see your progress throughout each of these sonnets. This one in particular shows incredible command of language and the form. The way you play with iambic pentameter here creates a seamless background rhythm. It doesn't at all interfere with what you're trying to say, but it provides an almost silent structure. Just great.
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