A year has passed and still I ruminate
About the gracious god or luck or fate
That anchored me where countless sonnets stem,
Where solely suited souls could see the Gem.
A vibrant sparkle asked my eyes to meet,
My ears were filled with melody so sweet,
A fragrance gripped my joyous nostrils tight
And tender touch transformed my gait to flight.
I almost lost my mighty marvel once –
I let it slip for I’m a dopey dunce
Who simply tasted bliss he hadn’t known
And not familiar flavors of alone.
But grander gains are made in times of strife;
Atone and you may also find your life.