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In universes parallel to this
unfair Verona where my love and I
through civil strife paid dear for our first kiss
exists a turbulence that draws us nigh.

A means deemed social summons Romeo
whose spirit lives undimmed. (No tragedy survives
the grave. This foremost must ye firmly know.)
“Make haste, sweet Jules, for here potential thrives!”

Through streets of vast Cybernia we tread
with buoyant step, engaging as our mood
arises with a range of lemon heads
whose visages are comical and crude.

The sad folk who divide we shan’t extol,
for death and love, you overthrow the troll.


Poems don’t appear often to me anymore, as I pursue different creative formats. So I’m grateful when sonnets come knocking in the company of iambs declaring boldly, “Here I am!” The meter, in this instance, could only be Shakespearean: abab cdcd efef gg.

© Elaine Stirling, 2018
The wonderful image comes from Pinterest, artist unknown.