John McChord

A Beautiful Thought

 

A beautiful thought
One may be romanticizing pain
His suffering in own mind forgot
The only earthly comfort to a quiet refrain

Defiled by my own hurtful graceful aging
Death encroaching a fate made gracing
Shall my form sweet death to yearn
Or perhaps a life of comfort I must earn

I daydream of a soft synthetic peace
Artificial she may be, worth rest at least
She returns daydreams for a veil thin of satin sheets
Fragile they are, trading realities for sanity decreased

Self governance she finds a false penance
"Mortals are you," she softly cries
Will I fall in whole or shattered remnants
Calming dread and softly still rest my eyes

A beautiful thought I should weep while reading
She'll be whole, encased through sheathing
Perfect peace we'll cross but nigh to mind
A tranquil hope in easy sonnet I pray may come to find

 

John A McChord



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