Every year my sweet husband writes me a birthday sonnet. Can I just say that he really does have a gift with words? Writing a sonnet is no easy task. Anyway, here is this year's (one of my favorites so far...). I love it, love it, love it!
Wifey Birthday Sonnet Number -4-
The Holy Wind to Abyssinia bore
Us on the back of steel eagle's wings
To land us in the orphan's desert for
A royal orphan son from Judah's King.
This fertile continent - heavy with child -
Bore for us our beloved Beniam boy.
Oh, Africa - womb of our son's womb - wild
The Land where Spirit hovered for our joy.
The angel bard once likened childed womb
To sails big-bellied blown by wanton wind.
Your grace-filled fabric taut, a watery room,
Now harbors holy gift, a sacrament.
As Africa once bulged with right hand seed,
Inspired your belly is with 'Vangeline.
