Sonnet Dare: The Mysteries Of Art

Rita, originally uploaded by qatesiurade.

A lovely face, done up in graceful lines,
A sonnet where the poet bares her soul...
Through these something of what is inside shines
But even so, they're under tight control,
Expressions such as these. Transparency
In art is just a myth. Deep in those eyes
Sketched in with charcoal, much we do not see
Remains unknown. Though naked, the disguise
That is its surface hides from us what true,
Intriguing secrets might be there beneath
Its calm. There's always tension between you
Who apprehend, and those who do bequeath
Such work to future ages. You may think
You know what's going on, but we just wink.

In Which The Sonnet Queen Knows Things You Don't

I take a confidence seriously,

And that is why in confidence I'm told

So many things. But I still get to squee

As long as I disclose naught. I won't fold

Or bow to pressure put on me to spill

My knowledge, but that doesn't mean I can't

Gloat on this page, say neener-neener, thrill

Myself, if no one else. Go on and rant

And call me tease; I care not. I have got

At least two secrets, and the day's yet young.

I won't say whose, nor any of that rot.

No clues escape my fingers, nor my tongue.

When comes the day that you're allowed to know,

You shall. Till then, just listen to me crow.