How Was It That I Didn’t Love You More?
How was it that I didn’t love you more? Your frailty as delicate as spring. How sad I didn’t prize to hear before, The sweetness of the songs you’d always sing. How so often did I miss you standing there When my eyes should’ve anchored on your own? How could I ever show I didn’t care, Every time you were weak or felt alone? How did I fail to make you less afraid, For even just the briefest span of time? How strange, when in the ground I saw you laid, The best of you was taken from my mind? How is it that I love you more each day, When now you are so very far away?
There Was a Knock at Dead of Night
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There was a knock at dead of night That started me from sleep. My make-shift bed at end of yours Complaining with a creak.
Oh I admire so much poets that write sonnets! This worked really really beautifully. 🤍 Maybe someday I’ll risk myself into it as well. 🙊
I love this poem so much! I’m not sure if you’re familiar with Christina Rossetti, but it gives me the vibes of her work. Beautiful!!!