Sonnet VI: How do I Touch Thee

To thou, but when I see thee standing there;
My feelings, would I wish thee, hear me shout;
But when the fortunes of my heart despair,
May I thee touch, when can I not reach out?

So many times with thee my tongue were still,
And lay so quietly within its doubt;
Yet words would circle ’round my soul until
Thee sonnets write, when can I not reach out.

Yet words may leave my soul and heart as well;
And leave my hands as mute, my pen without;
How, soul and thought and heart, may I thee tell?
I play for thee when can I not reach out.

For, all my days I worship thee throughout;
In many ways, do I to thee reach out.

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

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Sonnet VI: If Only Knewest Thou

If thou aboundest not with glory, seek
Thou ever this; for if thy world is rife
With glory’s joy, shalt thou abound to speak;
And shalt abound with glory in thy life.

So joyous wouldst thou ever, if thy place
Should, once, thy glory sing; although oblique,
And ne’er regard thy lack of fame, disgrace,
As such; though  fame and glory are unique.

Devoid of one another, both exist.
Though righteous one, the former may debase,
Impossible, unbidden, to resist.
So seek must thou this blessing, to embrace

That strife will fail to find thee in its midst–
The knife that in thy glory, yearns to twist.

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

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