Shall I compare thee? In many
ways you are the same; she a
waif of springtime youth and
you my love a leaf of Autumn’s
truth in fragrance and allure
I dream of you and hold your scent
a damp enraptured compliment, a
handkerchief in knowing she won’t
wear a frown; but sameness ends
wherein I drown for wont of you
I care – there is no easy parting,
knowing who I need repairs my soul
while she will wear a smile that I
mature; rest assured in whom
I see where sameness bares
© 25 July 2010, I. D. Carswell
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