The Moya View

Tag: sonnet

  • A Dying Poet’s Final Sonnet

    A Dying Poet’s Final Sonnet

    Bury me not in a high tomb of gloom on days sacred to all your lonely heart nor scatter my ashes in the pale moon on June’s or September’s early-late start.   Mix me in with all my good beastlies‘ dust, one third reserved for Elsi’s sweet embrace, two parts crushed into diamonds that not…