Tear from the mother her wrinkled new one <br />order to the front the perfect only son <br />drive a daughter wailing from her father's home <br />swear the gods no more in heaven roam <br />carve in old columns blasphemous graffitti <br />quarter the vassal proferring the treaty <br />banish moonshine off the chilly tarn <br />bludgeon roses, stifle music's charm <br />gutter-decant a ten year burgundy <br />redden, tetra-ethylate the sea <br />blurt the blushful sins confided thee <br />arm yourself with smiling perjury <br />but never from your heart my love remove <br />all, to that, is little to reprove.<br /><br />Morgan Michaels<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-sonnet-12/
