Sunday Sonnets
Do you recall in the First November
When recovering I talked you into hiking
Embarking upon the ferry to Cumberland
Still so weak from the long nights plight.
Sunday’s as these I sit beneath the pine trees
Recalling those first slow steps after the fall
Breathless lying on the blanket by the sea
Giving thanks for His taking us through it all.
When again in fall Cumberland Islands calling
Be patient with dreams beyond our span
And pray we never tire of the gentle drawing
Just to lay again where our dreams began.
Sunday sonnets do not often now come
Sunday sonnets for lovers who so fleet did run.
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