another attempt at writing a sonnet...
although I am mightily pleased with my latest accomplishment, suggestions and viewpoints are most welcome...
a milk bottle for the baby
mamma's caress for little children
a fairy tale for kindergarten
or a huggy, cuddly teddy
prayer books, rosaries for rocking chair ladies
brandy, maybe, for the gentry
cigarette for the young adult-ry
a phone call for lovers and pretty lassies
As for me, I always think of you
you do not know, you do not care
the world gives me one cold rude stare
but constantly within me, there is you
Is it weakness, illusion, is it wrong
to want that for which all humans long?