Sonnet - 31 Poem by Xavier Mandreza

Then Power infect your Love's Entourage
Such by his Pleasure darts our Seeds un-owned
His Table the Mark wrench-flayed your Corsage
Whose Majesty skimmed the Crown's frought renowned
As one the Branch-Strapped Citrus wooden play,
Press my Juice absorb other Flavours skinned
Be there, Harlot, whose Saint by Sword delay
Whence our Hearts mend our spare Duties primmed
That at least once our Pressed Melodies born,
Wield the Kirpan for Enlightenment's sake
Where living by act our Kes Threads un-shorn
Sacred by his Sikh does the Mind awake.
Telly, one does Trailing Fortunes had left
Now petitions those Jokely Clouds bereft.