The Complaints X

The well-made sonnet takes the azure sea Proud in her beauty as a halcyon, Her timbers chosen words, and melody Filling her sails of rhyme. She passes on In majesty and calm, but these my lines Are like a crazy and a leaky boat, Clumsily made of warped and twisted pines That hardly on the troubled waters float. Now comes an arrogant great wave ahead That swamps the blunted bow and spumes along ; Into the storm I drift in doubt and dread, Patient, not brave, enduring but not strong. I know not on this huge and angry sea How far my wretched ship can carry me.