Sonnet #none

Lo, such comfort in the crook of an arm,

A smile amongst the rapids of thine hair.

Firmament, hemisphere, safe in your palm;

the strength of words does well to bear.

Sweet, silent drops of serendipity,

The kin of dew upon the the parchéd plain,

Have bid farewell to cold solemnity

And ushered in the warmth again.

How well did it and thee connive,

To make this husk seem yet alive;

To feel as I have never felt -

That I can win with what is dealt.

Thank you once, and thank you twice;

Thank you, for the rest of my life.