ModPo

                               I Not they who soar, but they who plod Their rugged way unhelped to God Are heroes, they who higher fare And flying fan the upper air Miss all the toil that hugs the sod. 'Tis they whose backs have felt the rod, Whose souls to sorrow have been bare, Can smile upon defeated care,          Not they who soar. High up there are no thorns to prod Nor boulders hiding 'neath the clod To him the keenness of the share, For flight is ever free and rare-- But heroes they, the soil who've trod          Not they who soar.                                II 'Twixt smile and tear so wags the world-- Today on happy pinions whirled, We tempt the blue and spirit--gay We neighbor with t...

The Sonnet Series Prelude Every decision, it seems, is a trade-off, and each choice, a rejection of all other options. We oversimplify to mask our true feelings. We generalize to avert the difficult question. Our friendship, our love is a complex being, a life all its own with wants and needs that test our resolve. Is it a mistake, a crime to feed it, to allow it to blossom and grow? Addendum The things that I've always wanted, I'll always want: tea for two at bookstore cafes; chess games and poetry in city parks; tender kisses at midnight under summer moonlight; white wine with honey-roasted almonds... The things that I've laboriously earned, I'll laboriously keep: enduring friendships and trusts; memories of special moments when love was sweet; the deep-seated satisfaction of success; lessons learned from failure. November 1987   Sonnet #1 Dear friend, the sonnet seemed to be the best of forms To test and gage the status of our friendship born Those years ago, amid th...