Tag Archives: Poetry

Sonnet: Weight of Time

Posted by David Emeron on

In gentle whispers, falling time doth pass,
This fleeting breeze, its leaves fly swift and brief,
Yet stirring in its wake, a weight amassed,
A burden borne and cast by every leaf.

For once the years and even decades flow,
The weight of ages on our souls descend,
We feel the heartless weight of time’s cruel show,
That all, that even we, must meet an end.

But in this truth, have we a solace found,
For though our numbered days be numbered so,
That time… and time… and time… doth not confound
This love we share; that sharing memories grow.

So let us, therefore, not in sorrow dwell,
But face the weight of time we choose to tell.

–For Elon Musk,

–And for my Sweet Love on Christmas Eve night.

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Sonnet XII: How Am I Kept

Posted by David Emeron on

When doth she strive to him in comfort keep;
And strive, withal, her heart, and sweet, her hands;
To soft his dreams, so gentle on their way,
His thoughts to soothe and calm his restive mind,

That quick across the vasty star-fields leap;
So never may alight the shifting sands
‘Pon any mote to pause that might delay,
Of all his thought, its whirling dance combined.

For, never doth requite his mind in sleep;
Not even as the God of sleep demmands’.
To wake him, doth she hear temptation say;
Yet I’m, to her illusion, not inclined….

Desire, thou bent all deep toward what commands’
My peace; for next the day, this night would find!

This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:

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Intro 12: All of This, Her Love

Posted by David Emeron on

I strive within my heart and out through my hands
To soft your dreams on their way,
And to soothe your mind
That skips so quickly across the vast star-fields,
Never lighting
Upon any mote that might give pause
To the whirling dance
Of your thoughts that never stop
Even in sleep.

To wake you is temptation
But I never fall prey to simple illusion.
My desires bend all toward
Your peace.

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Sonnet XI: Her Peace

Posted by David Emeron on

So dreameth now my love again in sleep
And smileth angelic, she; though dream
Not angels, as His children may create;
As we alone were from His image made.

And deep, she doth within, such wonder keep;
Such visions, perfect in her care, doth seem.
My love so doth me gift, in perfect state,
This firmament some deity forbade;

Wherefrom I am forbidden still to leap
And soar and glide, so bright above, supreme,
So realised, hath she made, though inchoate,
Where she, these gardens of delight, hath played.

But still I weep, that safety, my esteem
May not create, when demons there invade.

This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:

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Intro 10: Will I See?

Posted by David Emeron on

Things I have not seen…
But wish that someday I shall…
In another life…

In another time…
Although my faith is lacking…
I want the next life…

So I may see you…
Dance for me, and play for me…
As never I’ve known….

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Sonnet IX: Thy Bounty

Posted by David Emeron on

Of mee, my love, hath she my bounty seen,
And hath she of this bounty seen but all;
Hath seen, as heard, and felt, my music play;
If that I love, or that were truly mine;

Hath watched me towering creations glean,
In theory penned, or realised, standing tall;
Hath known the speed at which, once under way,
Some skill, once undertaken, I refine;

Hath seen me write of love, or vent my spleen;
With verse or prose delight her or appal;
Hath she the whole of me, in full display;
Doth praise; with admiration, doth enshrine.

Between such adulation and enthral;
Pray, shall I tell, of that I know, of thine?

This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:

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