by Philip Kent Church
UNDER SUNPetrarchan Sonnet
The Sun proceeds the mountain’s sky in kind;
As long traveled a trail is trekked to gain.
A life prevailed upon, journeyed to feign,
Like some ancient clockwork refused to wind.
The whole of truth, with which we hold in mind,
It’s what we base ourselves upon, be lain.
We must remember all that may pertain,
Or find we are among the deaf and blind.
As like Autumn’s dead leaves discard the trees,
And mountain peaks resound without reply.
We live our lives thru all with aim to please,
But there remains, of hope, hopeful retry.
To gain the chance to change, as like the breeze;
Be warmed by Sun, upon which we rely.
Philip Kent Church