A Maelstrom in my Soul [sonnet]

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So now you woke the serpent that has slept
through years — lain dormant in the cave I made
when sweet remembrances of you I’d swept
into a glorybook, now somewhat frayed.

Your words: “Sometimes I run into your face
within the centre of myself” have raised
a maelstrom in my soul, as I retrace
the furnace steps we took — entranced, amazed.

But circumstances threw us both apart
(in body terms alone, for we are one),
which distance cannot change — you have my heart!
Against all suitors, you’re my paragon.

Was it for nothing you have stirred the snake?
Or now what should have been will we remake?


© Alan Morrison, 2015

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