Poem -

Simulacra

Simulacra

Second Sonnet from The Apotheosis of Solitude

If drops of salted water from the sea;
Matured by time: mayhap conceive a star.
Astride a husk, enrapt in raiment, She
is doomed to beauty. So from near and far
Her pilgrims come. In search of something new
Though nothing in their hearts can they behold
Except a painted idol. Never you.
But there is one; permit him to be bold.
He never brought from Israel a palm
He never ventured south to visit Rome
Veronica’s kerchief could hold no balm
For he who’d raise a goddess with a poem.
Think of him, for now, as Peregrino:
β€œChe a considerar fu piΓΉ che viro.”

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Comments

author
Jason Brown

Thank you, Lisa.
The feeling is, most assuredly, mutual.

J xxx

Reply
author
Deborah Evans

Another beautiful write Jason
Thank you for sharing DebsΒ 

Reply
author
Rose Sho

And now I'm left with no choice than to read this too...Well done J....Keep them coming...You've made me a fan of the Story and Sonnets...I can't have enough

Reply
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