When I finished the two sonnets before this one I noticed that the word count was hovering around one-hundred, so I decided I wanted to try and write something with exactly one-hundred words. This is the result:
One-hundred words
One-hundred pleasant words in silence spoke
Among dear treasured friends. One-hundred truths
That faintly yell of chords they may invoke;
No ballad soft e'er dim the eyes of youth.
One-hundred discordant reflections: each invent
Their own. The mirrored souls of all compose
This garden God has sown; discern the scent
Of florid blossoms wan in their repose.
One-hundred senses Earthly bound nest high
Above all time and space. Amid this place
Still buried deep, so deep beneath the sky,
Unearthing injured figures – your embrace.
My love for thee as free as soaring birds,
I dare not limit these one-hundred words.
Completion date: 2/25/2012
Unpublished material, ©2012 Neal Digre
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