Sonnet 37 – Small Time

I would love to write you in epics. You
would be bright glory, I would be your shield.
I’ve chosen sonnets for their limits, though,
not for their scope. I’ve learned that I must field

a finer phrase, try to capture moments
instead of ages. Words I choose to write
are vital – they must suggest the torments
and victories won, must people one white

page in one hundred forty syllables.
So I try to write of instants which can
communicate the whole. Whispers, troubles,
love words, Love’s ways and yours flow from my pen.

I may not write you a novel. But brief
scenes, bound by love and you, could write a life.