Sonnet 11 (Eleanor's Sonnet)
©2003 Alden Drake (Paul A. Haines)
How sweet the grass, which bends beneath her feet
Where she now stands with fabled harp in hand.
With poise surpassing any you will meet,
A minstrel who is known across the land.
How soft the breeze, on which her voice takes flight
Her words, like feathers, fall upon my ears.
The verses filled with passion, pure delight,
And melancholy lyrics filled with tears.
How bright the sun, which shines upon her face
Embracing her in summer rays of gold.
A flower fair, with beauty born of grace,
A rare and treasured lady to behold.
Though Truly in our hearts we all adore,
The gift of music shared by Eleanor.
Alden's note: The italicized line was provided by Eleanor Fairchild.