Sonnet - 153 Poem by Xavier Mandreza

Even if you are, admit by Lights avoid
Still no more these Rummages dust my Nerves
These Dames have Won; And Won by Heart's Alloy
Their Prayers bless Merit their World's Conserves
As we Trodden Fruits our Inner Pulps rot
And cause Goat-Songs bling the Lord and the Dance
Which Accept therein a Begging-Bowl's Spot
And know our Fortitudes we must Enhance
At least, thus, glad your Assumptions confirm
Now that Dimensions place your Shape define
One Wonder - these Candidates - breach Conform
To Cut this thread our Sanity remind.
Like these Fourteen-Lined Girls; addicts they be
Refuse their Master's Buns in turn to leave.