Sonnet 9: While softly gazing at the ceiling fan

While softly gazing at the ceiling fan

My glazed eyes ponder one attitude;

 I catch with ears the whispers I would ban,

And hope as quiet whispers they will brood.

I wait silent for what I do not know,

Except that it is inescapable;

My muscles tense like tightly coiled vows

Of flames which strip me raw unbearable.

A knock upon the door awakes my soul,

And pulls me rudely from my reverie;

I float like shadow towards the malign door

But dazed I find the old porch-step lacking.

When looking down I see flowers to prove.

Sweet love was here and left me caught in love.