composed in collaboration with Eleanor Dubinsky
Sonnet 144 / I Wish (Iris Berman)
Sonnet 144
Two loves I have of comfort and despair,
Which like two spirits do suggest me still,
The better angel is a man right fair:
The worser spirit a woman coloured ill.
To win me soon to hell my female evil,
Tempteth my better angel from my side,
And would corrupt my saint to be a devil:
Wooing his purity with her foul pride.
And whether that my angel be turned fiend,
Suspect I may, yet not directly tell,
But being both from me both to each friend,
I guess one angel in another's hell.
Yet this shall I ne'er know but live in doubt,
Till my bad angel fire my good one out.
I Wish
I wish my husband would cry in front of me
Instead he puts on a stoic face
He is the rock, protector of his property,
The one to save our family
From major and minor disgrace
He is my Man Of The Hour, Man Of The Day
I just wish he would share his pain
He does let it out at work, in the office,
Where he never misses a day
That's what his co-workers say
He tells them how he worries about my ill health
How he's afraid the two of us will never be the same
But once at home, he puts on a smiley face
Then a kiss on the cheek, a quick embrace.
I Wish © Iris Berman (used with permission)
