Sonnet XCII

Petrarch by the Fountain of Vaucluse, Arnold Bocklin, 1827- 1910, oil on canvas, location unknown

Come to Vaucluse the rolling litany swerves & chorales in me.
With thick hard crusts, yellow’d apples and spongy chestnuts.
A poets’ complimentary banquet which builds within a supple
Mind, a trellis upon which rhymes are stacked rudiments for
Collegiate verbiage, a tracery o’ frippery, supping queer and
Loquacious tomes, weighted texts, facts collected & intoned.

T’s an oblique octagonal hive, an amber honeyed anodyne &
We the workers, filling the golden elixir, our busy feet &
Mouths wielding resinous propolis, sediment in furrowed
Wedges, a segmented symbiotic haven in a grotto o’ delights
Er, the golden door dissembling on the floor. Er the melding
Molded pews, entrees secreted in a cloistered reality between
Avignon and Vaucluse, intermittent as the ichor that doth rain
Between illusions, natural and strange.

October Hill Magazine Second Place Contest Issue 2019

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