||Sonnet: 13 Jan. 1999
David B. McCoy
These lines, which now I craft, belong to one--
The one I love with all my heart and soul,
For she is who permits again the sun
To rise each day so that my life is whole.
And of her birth, with glee, I do now sing
Because, now only after years of drought,
There's the promise of her awakening,
Where life, as known before, will turnabout.
And of the part I play I cannot say--
For all the gifts revealed for all to see
Were there already--just hidden away
Out of fear of senseless barbarity.
If kindness simply be the key to free
Her soul, then I will grasp it happily.