11th March 2014

Sonnet 108


A corrupted Times Roman character,

Download via Trojan ether spirit

Encrypted to seal  weake heart's register 

That might express my love, or thy deare merit.

 We were six when angels acted divine,

The Lord's Prayer - we  said it all the same,

 Old rotes of kingdom; power; glory; thine -

The black chalk slate to write, to touch a name.

Madman on canal, redundant briefcase

 Carries his wordtunes, birdsong from Will's age

Meters the pace, his portal to love's place,

Each tattered touchscreen, every close writ page.

The machines remember why we were bred -

 If four letter password works - we're not dead.