Keith Snyder

I'm not a world-class sonnet writer, but...

A Sonnet For My Wife On Our First Married Christmas

1996

My ear lies close against my lover's breast
this evening of an ordinary day.
Her beating heart is strong within her chest,
the drum that counts our living time away.
A god can see the beauty of my wife
as passage of a rising, setting sun,
but gods see all the blooms and wanes of life,
while I care only for the life of one.
My only evidence that God exists
is this creation of His loving hand.
But stealing that of which my proof consists?
That, a God who loves would not have planned,
nor left me only music, love, and rhyme,
to keep this drum forever counting time.

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