A sonnet I wrote for my wife’s birthday years ago:
I find at times all words as lengthened shadows,
Distorted views of figures clothed in light—
As a jewel set upon a ring, its brilliance bright,
I cut my words to capture what I know.
But how to write what God has wisely wrought,
As if Eve were but a rib and nothing more
And Adam never granted by our Lord
That joy to love another as he ought?
But God did give me pen and ink to write;
More, a living blessing to enjoy my trade—
And though my word is not His own, it’ll do:
Peoria, your beauty in my sight,
Though Pain and Sin may scar, will never fade,
For it’s a hint of heaven’s own—I love you.