Chapter 6: ode to the sun (love, thomas)

EARTHFLOWWords: 429

o sweet spontaneous sun

how often has

the

crude

egotism of

doting sonneteers branded

you theirs, forced

ownership unto your rampant

brilliance, degrading

your

lustre to mere syntax. how

often have they robbed you of

your blinding

distinction, lipping

foolish consonants of

flattery that you might darken

to a pitiful blush

(and you seared in answer,

never sated only in

sheen)

♠

format from e.e. cumming's

"o sweet spontaneous"