A Sonnet For Lisa

What sighing. crying, flying into temper’s tantrum

Tear reddened trembling clenched of fist

Blackened by mood so vile and rage to quiver such a pretty lip

Venom where only sweetness and chaste adoration bloomed

Angels in heaven who together shaped such loveliness of face

Must consider all things unbelieving

When she of such perfection spites such wicked bitter anguish

That her face tormented thus would turn away the face of Lucifer

What is this stillness as she turns to cry soft and wet upon my neck

Calmer now she smiles, shyly preferring to dream her slumber

Warm tears and songs of sleep stain her pillow

Pink hearts and butterflies flutter across her bedroom curtains

I wait to watch the storming clouds pass before the moon

Pick up her toys then leave the room