Fool's Sonnet

Neither in paintings, sealed in timelessness,
Nor in a book, ill shaped against decay,
Can what in color or in word expressed
Be made eternal, nor beguiled to stay!

Expression has no home or house to dwell
But inside You, whom it might so impress.
And this poor Me without protection shall
Of but that thought be robbed so pitiless.

Yet, such injustice cannot be repaid,
And will but budge to generosity.
Only what's shared is given unafraid
And thus I vow to not give miserly!

Whatever you might find in what I give,
Do not expect a gem, as I still live.

(for M.G.)