Sonnet 1

I wrote my first sonnet to my wife Janice on our 7th wedding anniversary. It is in iambic pentameter.

Sonnet 1

Alas did I neglect you my poor bride?
Made you feel more a mother than my wife.
I would bespeak your faults in haste and pride.
Create dissension, argument and strife.

I criticized your works and censured them.
My hurtful speech poured out like heavy rain.
Should I expect no scourge when I condemn
Provoke your anger, suffering and pain.

Forgive me, I have failed to treasure much.
I promise to adore and cherish you.
I miss your smile, affection, gentle touch.
United let’s resume as one not two.

Compared to other women you outshine.
My Sweetie, you’re my joy and prize divine.

Listen on Apple Podcasts Listen on Google Podcasts