Will and Testament (a sonnet)

Time was, we carved the cello’s Venus mound, 

Composed the music for the melody, 

And aged the ocher wood to free the sound 

To sing the cello’s heart from memory. 

And now with your two sons and mine we breathe 

The honey’s forest fragrance tongued by bees 

From flowers’ lips, and to our sons bequeath 

The living golden sweet of our heartsease. 

Let’s share the sun-ripe orange of our mind, 

And show our boys to bite as we have done 

The dulcet fruit within its gilded rind, 

To taste the world our friendly knowing won. 

Music, when soft our honeyed voices die, 

Will vibrate in their liquid memory’s eye. 

 [1986]