TAINTED CANVASS--a sonnet

TAINTED CANVASS: a sonnet


I thank you, dear, for whatever you gave,
Company, love and your sweet memories.
Why for anything else I should yet crave?
Have not to me afforded pleasure these?

The time we spent together fleeted quick,
I just did not know that its end was near.
A nagging feeling does today me prick,
When in my heart this one thing is now clear:

I was either mistaken in my thought,
Or maybe you had some hidden desire,
That you were somehow compelled to resort
To extinguish the jointly kindled fire.

No, my love, I do not have a complaint.
It’s just the canvass of love has a taint.



M C Gupta
25 March 2005