Dreams like this are “sweet”, Fia. They are “cozy” as well, but then there comes the hollowness when you awaken and realize it is just a dream, a memory of what once was. Thank you, Fia, for your comment.

Thanks, Styxian, for your visit and comment. They are deeply appreciated.

Thanks for the truly wonderful comment and compliment, Styxian. Pablo was indeed a Grand Poet! I think his poetry flowed from his deep love of the people, their struggles, their love, and their place in the world. He truly was a poet of the people.

Hi Light. I am not sure how you would define or label a sonnet like this. Pablo Neruda wrote his sonnets in this free style form. It still held to the 14 lines but had a different internal rhythm than the traditional Shakespearean Sonnets. The last 3 lines usually are the heart or twist for the poem. A google search reveals this explanation for his sonnets:

“Pablo Neruda’s sonnet style is characterized by its evocative language, rich imagery, and complex poetic techniques. His sonnets often explore the theme of unending love, using metaphors and sensory details to create an intimate connection between the reader and the poet. Neruda’s sonnets are divided into four sections, each representing a different part of the day, and he uses the sonnet form to convey his message about the timeless relevance and universal appeal of love. His work has been translated into English numerous times, and it continues to resonate with readers around the world.”

Thank you Light for reading, comment and visit.

Thank You for your response❤️ I am only fimmliar with the classical form of Sonnets, to write Sonnets with Free Style seems my way 😄

Good Coffee Morning ☕

Thank you muchly for your comment, Fia. I appreciate how you see this poem, how it affected you. Exactly, how it made you ‘feel’.

Adelphina, I love your comment, thank you. I think words do want their freedom and we poets simply pluck them from wherever they are and arrange them on a page. It was strange, actually, when I captured the word Enigma, Indigo appeared in my mind, like magic.

Thank you RomaJ, I truly appreciate your take on this poem. “Strange Fruit”, a sung by Billie Holiday, is a song about the lynching of Black men during the whole period of “Jim Crow” America (1877-1964). These “lynchings” continue today, not done by KKK, but police terror. In the song, Billie H. talks about “bulging eyes” and “black bodies swinging”. I used birds as a metaphor for this horror.