The case of the missing sonnet unfolds,
Layers of intrigue yet to be revealed:
One, the sonneteer vehemently upholds
That crucial evidence has been concealed;
Two, he claims the sonnet (to date his best)
Was finished and the draft had gone to print;
And three, as aggrieved plaintiff, he’d suggest
The weight of evidence does more than hint
That the crime was payback, a vendetta,
A deliberate and well executed
Act of retribution; Every letter,
Every word, in every way disputed.
. Why take possession of what causes grief?
. What’s the obsession… it beggars belief?
© Tim Grace, 29 September 2011
To the reader: A lost object has the potential to be found; it’s not yet fully gone. Retrieval is usually a simple matter of retracing steps; upturning the obvious. Annoyingly, in the lost-zone, while it lasts, there dwells frustration and self-doubt. But, having acquitted yourself of simple misplacement there comes the temptation to attribute blame to others. They become the culprits.
To the poet: This is the first sonnet, sequentially but not chronologically, to have fourteen lines loaded with ten syllables each. The first line also adheres to the pattern of iambic-pentameter with paired emphasis bouncing from heel to toe. It’s also a sonnet that, for my pleasure, reads across the lines as a single passage of thought. As structured, this sonnet works well as a self-contained package.