All was given, everything was left,
And every hope would swell that I redeem
With nothing taken out; and when I deftly
Built up my redoubt, I felt returning
All that gifted, everything that stood
To gain and give me gain in my esteem
In every way in which such profit could
So bolster my redoubt, my feared concern
That some were not as they appeared; that next
To me–so closely held to my extreme—
So close my sense of safety had been vexed
To lay such siege, my hasty need to learn
How best to live within a fading dream
When once confessed, received, but did not earn.
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:
Reblogged this on smoothsolidade and commented:
all was given
everything was left
Did I notice you had done this? If yes, I am sorry for my faulty memory; if not, thank you.
Thanks to talktodiana, for sending me here, so I could read this poem, today. This resonates, strongly, with where I am. (I was going to praise your poem, but you’ve said, “Insults make me happy.”)
: ) Funny how these tell a story of sorts. This is in spite of the fact that this sequence is about sound and balance, first and foremost. My Sweet Mrs. Emeron, says I just cannot help myself.
Lovely poem – merci, too, for visiting & following my blog.
Thank you and you are most welcome!
Reblogged this on In a preferred embodiment and commented:
David and his sonorous sonnets!
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