From high anticipation
Swells a reservoir of need,
In relentless expectation
Dwells avarice and greed.
With accumulated envy
In sediments of must,
There’s fear of what might empty
And desiccate to dust,
The certainty of emphasis
Undelivered cuts a rift,
And from this pool of promises
There is no certain gift.
. The hope of all wishes, is a dream come true.
. Real or capricious, you can not make it due.

© Tim Grace, 7 November 2010

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To the reader: Hope is not built upon a promise. That which springs eternal carries no guarantee of service or delivery. When ladened with expectation hope is prone to sour and curdle into a frustrated yearn; a nagging desire. Expectation stretches forward and as with rope can not be pushed.

To the poet: Sometimes confidence overrides technical issues. The sheer force of short rhythmical phrases ignores a dubious rhyme; and to some extent, makes it all the more interesting. Each pair of lines, within the quatrains, works as one structure of meaning. And then, the meaningful pairs are tied together with conjunctives to form a single, and united, sonnet. A single piece of rope.

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no certain gift