Sonnet 502

The words she spoke were glazed with honey dew
To hide the acrid taste upon her tongue,
Still more the force strained smile to there beshrew
That which she prior dubbed the devil’s dung.
Two hearts once joined in compact, heaven blessed
Now dueling face to face with pistols aimed,
Yet blast restrained, hair triggers hate caressed,
Red hot desire to see the other maimed.
Perhaps dubiety did stay the ire
Of seething will beneath forged iron masks,
Restraining duelers each to hold their fire
And stay the carnage full redress would ask;
The meeting brief upon that busy street—
But long the plan the next they ever meet.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

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