Sonneting

Some places are more fertile for my mind
More tilled, and thus susceptible to weeds,
But also thus more likely to then find
Something to grow, whatever be the seeds.
In such a place, the words I think become
More orderly, and so express my thoughts
Coherently, reducing my mind's hum
To words, untying all my mental knots.
And so my love and adoration pour
In a coherent and expressive stream
Saying I love, and by that saying more
Than ever in another place I'd dream
That I could say. Chicago lets me tell
The one I love I love her very well.