(sonnet # CXLVIII)
CXLVIII
Cicadas buzz by day, while crickets woo
At night. The first's milieu dismays though light
Quite golden bathes the verdant summer sight,
And dappled shadows play, as teasing through
Their intrigue, dancing slight, engage the blues
To vanish 'til the cadence' pitch and height
Renews its strength, subsides. A minor fight
Against the wearying dullness e'er ensues.
Yet darkness brings reprieve in songs so sweet
As little fiddlers cheer with merry lay,
Its velvet blanket just the cloak replete
With all they need, dispelling in their sway
The ceaseless bray, reviving joys, they greet
And hearten with their winsome roundelay.
09/10Jul11