There is no mercy in you -- there is just
The teasing smile that hides the butcher knife.
There’s nothing in your ways that I can trust;
No street that’s not a threat against my life.
One night you’ll say “Hello, there!” with a gun.
One day I’ll tease you and you’ll have my head.
One wrong step and my walking days are done.
One hint of weakness and you’ll cut me dead.
The price I pay for loving you is hard:
I need to grow a second pair of eyes
To see behind me and keep up my guard,
And extra ears to listen for your lies,
And extra hope, that when you start to tear me
Limb from devoted limb, you’ll smile and spare me.Copyright 2010 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
Sonnet 10
Sonnet 11
Sonnet 12
Sonnet 13
3 comments:
and sometimes I wonder why I moved out of NY...
an irishman can never be an irishman until there is one woman in his life that he can never have...seems like ava is that woman...or one of many...which makes you WICKED irish. she's the gas in your tank,the junk in your trunk,the victory of style and substance over form and structure.
planning an extended stay in marshfield around august 17th:surfasting for blues on the national seashore with bridie,joshie, and connor,cape cod league ball games,golf,wiffleball,bocce( all those high impact sports for wells' over 50),bbq's,clambakes, and geberal convivality-you in?
VBT-vey beautifull thing,
may your muse stay with you,
slainte',
gary brendan gilles wells
coventry village ,ohia
sorry about the typos
gw
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