The Manhattan Sonnets - 10

I hear your song calling me from outside
  My bedroom window, and I scorn to sleep.
There are no dreamy airs that can abide
  Comparison to tunes we two will keep --
No fantasies to equal how the real
  Will rapture us as we reel out the night --
No might-have-beens to dog us at the heel --
  No burning maybes yearning to ignite.
Those are the promises I hear in your
  Quick whisper as I’m wrapped up in my sheets --
Today, tonight, tomorrow: I will soar
  And you will swing me high above your streets
     And beckon for a stare with ginger eyes
     And gershwin me with clamor till I rise.

Copyright 2009 Matthew J Wells


Other posts in this series:

Sonnet 1
Sonnet 2
Sonnet 3
Sonnet 4
Sonnet 5
Sonnet 6
Sonnet 7
Sonnet 8
Sonnet 9