A Trio Of Sonnets Poem by Edward Clapham

Sonnet to puzzlement
And there I look, eager mind ready to offer a polite
Salutation; hopeful introduction to eventual
Happiness.
That first hello, shyly voiced, a certain questioning
In its intonation, the rising ending signalling hope.
I wonder why? Why is there this urge to approach,
And dance the eternal dance. Whence comes
This foolish optimism, that there is someone,
Somewhere, who like-minded fits the
Straitjacket of wit, physique and pheromones?
The Bard protests he will not to the marriage
Of true minds admit impediment; yet he does
Not offer the magic formula of finding one
Whom tempests do not sway.


Sonnet to incompleteness
Love is not love when fragmentation of the eternal
Triad is apparent on second, or third, inspection.
A pleasing face, trim bodied, with sharp mind,
Challenging thoughts and confronting conversation,
So exciting. But there is no spark, no panting
Desire to bed, or wed, to forget the mundane chores
Of life in order to be near, and touch, and inhale
The sweet fragrance of love.
Likewise, physical lust overwhelms; until chance
Remark reveals a capable mind, yet not resonant,
Not in tune with the vagaries of your thought.
Or, indeed, mind and pheromones work their magic,
Yet there is no urge to gaze on arabesque lips or
Admire that gentle curve, this almond eye.


Sonnet to Despair
And, let us suppose, that one comes who plays
On our three stringed lute of attraction;
Yet we do not pluck their strings and evoke
A pleasing duet of love. What then?
Are we doomed to live in some halfway
House of hope, a bystander to their life,
That they live out, oblivious to our nose
Against their window, wishful, a fading
Hope that their silence is to test our resolve,
Rather than proclaim a message of rejection.
The song that only we can hear has no echo,
No answering question, that once was voiced,
In subtle terms, without the courage to ask;
And thus we wait in hope.