The Virgin’s Gambit
"Sonnet #9: In reflective hexameter and heptameter, and Petrarchan rhyme."
Nightly, lightly the dance continues, echoes on Lightning quick, chancing eternity, just for possibly. Slightly, sprightly, another stab at plausibly; Counterstroke, counterpoint, turning, spinning like a boson. Each thrust and parry of words halts hearts, as a great oak sawn....




