Sonnet I: These words in my head

Monosyllables plant their little selves,
In the convoluted folds of my mind,
Wherein they are nurtured by sights and smells,
That the body had met in space and time,
With certainty they grow and multiply,
Consuming conscious thought and overwhelming,
They linger through darkness's grip on the sky,
To warm the soul with the kindest of kindlings,
These words within the confines of my head,
Ripen with the scents of life and death,
Eager they are to be printed and read,
They seek emancipation with great stealth,
But I perceive their treacherous plot,
In my mind they shall stay - like it or not!

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Hark, the season of sharing and giving (and receiving), friends and family, and homebaked treats has finally arrived. Don't you just love it?

Have a very Merry Christmas.