Sonnet For Monday, Oct. 13, 1975; For Lady Siderial

[to S. S. B. A., PhD; Lady Siderial]


bonda fide Princess you seemed to me:

more real than any schoolboy's fantasy.

And when you said, "Consider poetry,"

you changed my future and my destiny.

Your presence, purer than I could abide:

the chilling grasp of adolescent pride

gripped me hard.  In those days, I misbehaved---

as without Gospel faith, lost and unsaved.

I cannot make up for failed courtesy.

This poem asks if you can forgive my rude

manner, then.  Now, in a true Christian mood,

I post this to express my gratitude

for your words.  They led to poems that include

praises of God, and Lady Certainly.






Author's Notes/Comments: 

Although Lady Certainly is my final Love, from whose arms I shall take my leave of this world someday, Lady Siderial pointed me to the path toward poetry, on the date that provides the poem's title.  I had hoped too (since 1974) to write a poem for her about the Whitechapel mystery; but my long poem on it, herein entitled Mayerling (q.v.) is not that poem, which is still, forty-three years later, in the making.


These notes are primarily for Lady Siderial.

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