Sunday Sonnet [Using Alternative Rhyme Scheme], #21, 2015

th

[Image from Montana Mountain Knitting Needles]

A needle in each hand, single strands of

wool becoming one, changing to a whole.

If only time could be unravelled; love

could be reknit, guided to not take toll

as it often did.  Such power a dove

would fall for, lust for a beating heart all

consumed by equal passion: as above,

so below.  The needles clicked, mind a squall,

yarn over fingers threaded, creating

here and now changed material.  Meanwhile,

thoughts knitted into an intricate thing

a plan, a project of emotion: bring

together, tie a knot, start again.  Mile

on mile tread, seek that lost soul, heart’s own kin.

[Copyright © N R Nolan 2015]