When Giving’s chosen gift is Anger’s shout;
To Nothings’s take, you feel to Giving’s out;
Yet joying now, as when you Wish’s bring;
Then Whening’s company you’ve but to sing.

When Nexting’s Subtletly’s Regarding’s speak;
When onceing Knowingly’s regards thy shout;
When Simple’s gifted thee Regarding’s sing;
Then Nothing’s wish is merely Granted’s doubt.

I sang to Weak’s regard, of Strength’s remain;
And Knowing’s doubt for Knowingly’s disdain;
I doubted Granted’s wish for Nothing’s weak;
And shout this truth away to Loveing’s spring.

I’d Rather’s Song’s Regarding’s Empty’s hall;
Than, Taking’s song to Full’s no time at all.

• To myself, of course,
  but also…
  to the Pirate.

This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:

Permalink