.
Who are you? Not me, I know
You creep and crimp my edges fray,
An apparition of Dickens’ play—
Who are you? Not me, I know.
Push and prod and now you’re in,
Little sprite you always win—
Who are you? Okay, I know
Like tug of war we fought for place
But alas, O Spirit, you are my face.
.
.
Susan J. Cappellari resides in Fairfax, Virginia where she teaches Communication Studies courses at Northern Virginia Community College.
Thanks for your sweet comment, Allyson. At this time, they aren’t. But your words are going to inspire me to…
Enjoyed the sonnets — and profited from the notes. I like to see the decisions made by a translator, especially…
Thanks, James - terse is a high compliment. Savory's likely the most deserving, but under rated compliment in terms of…
Adam, thank you for this enthusiastic comment. Yes, the prejudice against any "dialects" in Italy was great after the nation's…
Sometimes, Paul, I feel as though I write with my tongue in my ear. That's hard to do. It's a…
Cute poem, Like me looking in a mirror.
Thank you.
Thank you. Exactly, that was my inspiration.
I appreciate it. Exactly, that was my inspiration.
Enjoyed your poem
Keep writing.
Thank you for sharing your poem.
Thank you.