The garden state of Eden soon proved stale <br />to plucky and inquisitive young Eve <br />So she decided she would rather leave <br />than have that boring status-quo prevail. <br />Now ever since we mope, be-moan and rail, <br />throw up our hands, tear out our hair and grieve <br />Pray fervently that there may be reprieve <br />from naughty-Eve inflicted mortal jail. <br />But may I say a word in her defence- <br />How could immortal life hold any charm, <br />when every game we play derives it's sense <br />from striving 'gainst the impetus of harm. <br />There could not be a purpose more intense <br />than racing to elude death's shrill alarm.<br /><br />Diane Hine<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-2-mortal-petrarchan/
