Sonnet XLIV: Oh, Bind my Spine

©01-14-23, Olan L. Smith

Fairly, you cross the winds of time to me.

          I learn your name, Alinda, yet untold;

A closely name supports the balcony

          You travel 'cross the great abyss to mold.

Your dreamer dreams a place for you, untimed.

          I ask, "What use am I?" Replies in psalms,

"A million times a billion words are rhymed,

          No more I ask of you, than halt the qualms

To heaven's gate, you are to be my poet?

          A poet strains to paint the written world."

Dominion births a well-timed aggregate

          For you, in darken hours of need, uncurled.

I say to her, "Oh, bind my spine, your breath

To mine; my prize, a hallowed muse till death."