Sonnet 478

An anemone ensconced beneath the sea
Was lonely so he split himself in two,
Beside his mate the twain did wave in glee
Yet twixt the each the distance slowly grew.
While happy arms still waved in sweet delight
The touching hands now gently slipped apart
And what was one now seemed but two in plight
As each from each obeyed a separate heart.
Yet as they moved they flailed in happy dance
Gesticulating love or sad farewell
And whether theirs remained a strained romance
Or briny hate, no one could ever tell.
One question so did linger on the seas;
We’re they still friends, or rank anemones?

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

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