Sonnet Not Found in Laura’s Tomb

I should have lingered longer on Ventoux,
Been less enamoured of the inner life.
Wanting a thing I could not have caused strife.
Others, not Laura, should have had their due.

Of Lauras in this world there are a few,
Perhaps not many, love is not so rife
That turns to adulation and a knife
Cutting at contentment, not even true.

Easter’s meaning after you was hidden
In the Cross’s shadow, Akeldama,
Love frustrated, carnal like a midden.

Only my delusion made me calmer.
Now the chain that bound me has been riven,
Cooled to rock I feel the molten lava.