7th April, 2014

Sonnet 123


Yes! What's in me's same but what's out will change,

You were built like a pyramid of might,

The daughter in thrall to mummy, not strange

When  cameras were her chosen lines of sight:

A public property's tough to admire

Up close all her life  -  not publically old

Even when dead to costume jewel desire:

Still more precious than the dull rest, we're told.

Thy registers and thee I both defie

Without trying, now I've outlived your past:

Mouth kind elegies not minding some lie

Made more or less by thy continuall hast:

    This I doe vow and this shall ever be,

     Now I can be true to what's left of thee.