02-25-2007, 03:35 AM
An Aspie Sonnet for My Beloved (my patient wife)
(written 12/24/06--11 days after my diagnosis at age 48)
The hostile world hath made a harsh decree
That passions must be worn upon thy sleeve;
Emotions, drunken sailors running free,
Careen about and threat to make me grieve.
For all do know that I may not express
My truest feelings, hidden joys, and cares;
This eye dares not your loving face caress,
And tongue of mine a tender word ne'er dares.
Yet surely you, my goddess of the moon,
Sense mine idolatry that waxeth bright;
From deep inside this grayed soul’s cocoon
My colour’d passions mount to godly height!
Although't appears that I've an empty heart,
It bleedeth sorrow when we are apart.
--Terry Kroenung
(written 12/24/06--11 days after my diagnosis at age 48)
The hostile world hath made a harsh decree
That passions must be worn upon thy sleeve;
Emotions, drunken sailors running free,
Careen about and threat to make me grieve.
For all do know that I may not express
My truest feelings, hidden joys, and cares;
This eye dares not your loving face caress,
And tongue of mine a tender word ne'er dares.
Yet surely you, my goddess of the moon,
Sense mine idolatry that waxeth bright;
From deep inside this grayed soul’s cocoon
My colour’d passions mount to godly height!
Although't appears that I've an empty heart,
It bleedeth sorrow when we are apart.
--Terry Kroenung
