A Sonnet to Brotherhood
The brothers shall meet by Lake Elsinore
Before the autumn leaves fall from the tree
In the last days of summer, there they’ll be
Renew a kinship pledge from days of yore!
There will be laughter; it’s part of their lore
Tankards shall be full; they’ll toast merrily
Of halcyon days, in the turbulent sea
As they sail the Argo while the winds roar!
Yet solemn the council will, and bittersweet
For some of the brothers, since departed!
Old warriors left for the Elysian Fields
Leaving the group bereft and incomplete!
Still there’s joy to be had, it’s just started
They’ll toast to whatever the future yields!
© Vic A Evora