A Sonnet to the Surge of Love
You say you want to build a wall to keep
yourself intact and all intruders out.
The price you’ll pay for that will not come cheap
(although you’ll give some guys the runabout).
You said you do not have the inner skills
to handle your relationships of heart.
But love does not consist in offhand thrills;
to grasp its thorny rose is quite an art.
Your fault was thinking any port would do
when faced with overwhelming storms at sea;
then found that you were beaten black and blue.
(Your pride will mean that you cannot agree).
You know that wall you’ll build will be a sham:
For true love’s surge will rupture any dam!
© Alan Morrison, 2019
The Naked Troubadour 