YOUR PRESENCE
Your presence always seems to be a treat
whose every little tasting could provide
a sense that worlds quite wondrous can collide
and thus might cause no absolute defeat.
Enhanced by ways you ceaselessly complete
fine pictures that are evidently wide
yet manage to seem neither sick nor snide,
each hour might sense in you no real deceit.
My trepidations always must include
the likelihood you'll quickly pass away
and thus appear to harm the world's main mood.
You long have tended to destroy dismay
by merely being someone rather glued
to television-watching day by day.

That was a good sonnet Bruce! ~Scott

Dear **Scott**: That mere sonnet, though goofy,
at least may have seemed almost spoofy?
I 'revvvvved up' the form,
then slept in some dorm,
then sounded a belllll rather huffy.