A Christmas Sonnet
on finding 4 bay leaves pressed within my 1774 edition of "Histoire des Nouvelles Decouvertes Faites dans la Mer du Sud"
When first the color fades from trees whose face
besought by pigments beauty to instill,
we cheer approach of winter’s snowy lace,
entwined like fingers through your mullioned sill
by all the fruits of artificial means
of forcing bed, the ragged robin’s peach;
the waxen gifts of nectar, gardens’ queens!
or sweet frumenty punch with froth of each.
Your eyes two fountains wrapped around by brooks
to all the lore of runs and creeks disposed,
where secreted twixt parchment covered books
epistolary of our love enclosed!
A thousand years of reading as one may,
Finds within empressed four green leaves of bay.