27th April 2014

Sonnet 137

Black on white pussycat bow, teardropped eyes

Oh my remodelled blouse it's unique, see -

Every eye sports it's tear, bodice of lies

Confected like my public face must be.

Shutters clicking press expose bald looks,

Babez we know you're not here for any ride:

Why of eyes falsehood hast thou forged hooks,

Why is  your pussycat so tightly tied?

Vanity, all is driven by my vanity's  plot

To showcase me in this galleried place;

Ego controlled - I liked to think I'm not

(Wrong!  Your heart's desire's an expose'd face).

Should I admit a mother's heart that erred

With her plague - fame -  beneath these eyes transferred?