|digital art by ashok|
Hark! Dark sleep, do not touch me;
For I have works left undone;
Show not your deep dark face for me to see
thou this world be a burden.
Never err to trow I fear you;
T’is not for fear I ask you to lurk.
I would‘ve hugged you days ago,
Had I done my life’s work;
And when I have carved my name,
In the very highest of the peaks;
And won a bagful of fame,
To become someone, someone proudly speaks:
Let then your cold hands touch my chest;
For then I’ll be needing, seeking, rest...
[another one of my school day poems, written in 1991...probably my first attempt on a Sonnet!]