Thursday, November 10, 2016

Niagara Sonnet Six


The city bourgeoned by the waterside,
as isle of apple blossom, steady pink,
and winter skated sorrow 'round the rink.
Through former age, in word and deed, now bide,
to resolution, cavalier and bold,
that evil will not fall upon the mild,
and vales of lilies grow 'till they are wild.
We picked fiery bouquets, as we were cold,
and mothers gathered families 'round the vase,
and walkers of the road were doubly blessed,
by nature's bounty, giv'n at their request,
a boy who heard the gilded ringing paused.
For history was reticent and kind
at island's song repeating on the mind.

Emily Isaacson