SONNET

Tapestry
The tapestry you wove with golden thread
was wrapped around me, deftly, by your hand.
A love I’d never known consumed my head.
Too wonderful to want to understand.

Yet soon the silken fibre slowly frayed
as bit by bit you turned the gilded knife.
My paradise of dreams began to fade,
like flowers cut and clinging on to life.

In shifted shafts of light as last I saw
a man who was a stranger in my midst
The tissue-paper promises you swore,
no more than rock-fall lost to an abyss.

The tapestry you wove with rancid thread
now cries in tatters on an empty bed.