Sonnet for Mrs. Nanuk

On the occasion of his wife's departure.

You hopped the plane early last Sunday morn
And left me sadly alone to face this day.
No choc'lates and roses and bearded seal fillet
Just empty bottles, barren thoughts and heart forelorn.

I curse your ear! - the one whose otic affliction
Has caused your removal from our blissful concord
And flung you south to a remote hospital ward
Where my ardent kisses are but a cruel fiction.

That portal through which my words of love once sped
Has failed. Whether t'was anvil or tympanic membrane
That did conspire and leave us parted in pain
It matters little now you have southward fled.

So this sonnet I've written to plant the idea
That I'll love you forever, right down to your cochlea.

I miss you this Valentine's Day. Come home soon, my dear.

Your Nanuk