It’s not everyday that someone writes a sonnet for you. I’m not going to lie: it made me feel real special.
014. VICTORY SKETCHES
Thou – a laughing daughter of two Ports
Doth in two realms a warm catharsis render –
In words (thine blog) and deeds (the acting sort)
Thou makest dread itself more passing tender.
A saying’s made a platitude by years.
With over-watering, its petals droop.
But thou, with thine frank record of thine tears
Saved a doomed metaphor – Chicken Soup.
I know the hand that holds thee to the ground –
How oft, indeed, it tries to push thee in.
But as thou pushest back, you’ve likely found
We fellows ‘neath the hand, too, dare to grin.
May you always make Depression jealous
And e’er outpace its hand, Miz De Ornelas.