Trust the Fish

Trust the Fish
Form: Brisbane Sonnet

Two bubbles floating upward in the glass
Born apart while lovers were the toast
And in the ways of enchantment they swim
As lovers danced upon the fresh cut grass
Shunning the kiss that was needed the most
And the gold fish sighed the chances were slim
Blowing his bubbles on ripples to ride
His golden fins showing the signs of age
He knew placid waters had much to hide
Love does not hear wisdom of fish nor sage
How soon the champagne bubbles will have died
And love will follow left out in its cage
For love cannot grow from a hopeless start
Restricted by wants of a soulless heart


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