Sonnet VII: Respite

In peace, my love, forever do I goe,
That blessed nectar I adored to seek,
That gave thee rest and ease in its mystique
That long ago hath poured and I bestow.

Take thou, my love,  these tears that overflow
To quench thy soul; restored, do they forespeak
To thee; I shed them gladly, take my cheek
To drink–so blush, as though with wine aglow.

But soft, my sweet, and drink thou ever deep;
Breathe now the vapours of my soul–and heart:
Read thou its sonnets, and thou wilt mee know.
But peaceful, shall I lay thee down to sleep,
Bequeathing thee, when we awake, such art
And dance that from thy hearth shall never goe.

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

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5 responses to “Sonnet VII: Respite

    • My thanks! I enjoy hearing from those who find such things to their liking.

      And, I very much enjoyed writing this series of seven which dealt with what I experienced upon my very first taste of fine Oloroso Sherry. It did help that at the time I had been very long in love.

      This final one of the series is perhaps richer in metaphor than the rest, because it was written as a response to the other six. The original

      https://davidemeron.com/?p=2061&preview=true

      was written by my sweetheart as a freeverse, which is included as the introduction to this seventh in the series; and which I thought fitting to be the inspiration for a sonnet to end the series.

      Some of us–those “sciencey” types, especially–look to the distaff in our lives to assist us with, and inspire us to, metaphor. As with my sweetheart, such things flow so freely, and to such things, inspire me as well.

      Another that had a similar genesis is linked below; the original of which, also serving as its introduction, was written by a very talented young lady with quite a beautifully well developed sense of metaphor; if you are interested in such metaphoric synthesis:

      https://davidemeron.com/?p=3373&preview=true

      I hope to compose more such as these in the future, because the inspired result is truly more than that of which I am, at least at present, by myself capable.

      Like

  1. Pingback: Parting,a sonnet « How my heart speaks

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