Sonnet: A Key

I love thee so, my sweetest, do I close
Up my romantic soul, and lock away
Its delicate embrace of thee I chose.

And for your sake, my children, shall I hide
Away its key; that none should see its truth
While every day I brave this worldly sway.

And yet, for me, the romance of my youth
Is sore alive, in all that I provide;
As, for thy comfort, every tree I fell;

Until–my wish at last–shall come the day
When all are safe, and everything is well.
My calloused hands, mine axe, shall lay aside;

This key, my soul’s romantic door, display
To thee, and to our children, love and pride.


14 responses to “Sonnet: A Key

  1. This is wonderful and it touches upon one of the subjects dearest to my heart — the loving task a husband bears into the world so we may remain safe and secure while our babies are young enough to need all of our focus. You have said it admirably, my dear. The piece reads beautifully…it has a very nice flow. I just love it! A real favorite.


  2. This is gorgeous…truly an inspiration in itself.
    The sacrifice men make to provide for family, while not being with them, trust me I know well…my husband is often away with work.
    We both sacrifice a ton. Him being away, and me being with five kids on my own often enough…I need not say more.
    May your family be blessed.


    • You are quite welcome. This was inspired, as so noted, by a comment you made, which I (hope I correctly) labelled in its dedication. They were a few seemingly offhand words, almost playful, and in response to a comment; however they struck me as significant–these words regarding your blog/poetry and your husband.

      It did remind me of a subject which my sweetheart and I have long discussed; one in which the nature of a man’s love sometimes requires him–at least to some degree–to lock away such feelings and such interest. It is a more difficult tightrope for some to walk than others. And the level of difficulty depends not only on the individual man in question, but also upon the type of work he must do.

      Our oldest is a career “Non-com” in the US Marine Corps, and he is perhaps one of the most romantic souls one may encounter–poetry and all! Sometimes though, a clearly defined job, such as that of a soldier, lends itself more to romanticism than more innocuous “secular” occupations.

      I, for example, while not a salesman by temperament, have worked a time or two in such a field. I found more the need for heart-hardening stolidness in such a profession than perhaps in any other–even when considering certain quite physical occupations I have undertaken. I believe it was necessary to marshal more toughness; and that, at the same time, I could afford quite a bit less poetry than I could while, for example, cleaning stalls, and grooming horses; which, with all of its concomitant side work, was really quite physically tasking.


    • To say there is something wrong with him because he does not read poetry or view much artistically, would be as unfair as to say there was something wrong with me, for being artist.
      There are many, many fine traits to him. We have been married 14 years, and are about as committed to our marriage as either of us have ever seen. We both come from muliple marriage/relationship parents with step siblings and half siblings. We honestly, try our best. We barely argue, we laugh plenty, and we do put up with each others differences. I would say he has taught me some of the best things in life.
      He is unphilisophical, unopinionated, and quick to laugh at himself and others. He disarms others with his ability to make them laugh. Even in the really tough moments. He is not a deep person in many ways, but perhaps that is exactly why we work and are still together. Things generally roll right off him, he never lacks confidence in his own capabilities and I trust him with taking care of us (which is obviously a huge amount of responsibilty financially) because I’ve never known such a productive person in my life. He is never lazy about life. I have to make him buy out time to relax. He is the work-a-holic type and would have been without a large family. Thankfully, he is this type, or I could not work as well inside our home.
      The hardest thing about life with this type, is they are simply not wired to get any other type of personality. The world bends to them. I have children that take after me, he has one who takes after him…we have children who mix traits, and balance better.
      The child like me, we are the daydreamers, we are non perfectionists, and highly critical of ourselves.
      The child like him, they share that they believe they are eternally right, they are the funniest and best at everything, and seem to accomplish so much in a tangible way, they see themselves as productive, while the daydreamers have wasted so much ‘productive’ time.
      But when their productivity drops, because they are ill or burned out…here we are, the soft souls who take care and hush them to
      I showed him both your sonnet and your wifes kind words, his thoughts…’oh that’s nice.’
      What I do, online with this site is, I believe to him is, a waste of time, better spent elsewhere. That he feels this way neither deters me, nor affects that I do it. I learned a long time ago, if I want something in this life, even a silly blog with some pictures and rambling, I need to fight for it…and I am very good at fighting in the most slow, methodical, passive way I’ve ever seen. It is a tactic that will always serve me well. The slow and steady always finish first…I love that Aesope fable. Rome was not built in a day….philosophical thinkers piece together the bits, and make the world a better place. I make my home a better place, his version would be regimented…mine is a different way all together, more ‘river-like’ if that makes sense. My way, ultimately carves itself, regardless of how you try to tame it, as a river does rock.
      My nature is to shadow lurk, and learn…very owl-like. Even if he never reads another word I write, I do not care, at all.
      We are separate individuals who are dedicated to our kids and each other. He puts up with my daydreaming ways…I provide a home he loves to come home to…I put up with his insane need for a ‘perfect’ home…and he provides what we need to make it work with some amount of order.Two very different people who have found a way to laugh and love each other and respect, that we are just not the same at all in some ways. We like each other. We love each other. And we respect how hard we each work to make it work…and we know it is not easy, at all, hence building even more respect for each other…the artist and the salesman. typical. old married couple…lol


    • You both seem wonderfully complimented to one another. I felt so from the very beginning! Not that I am truly able to discern such things all the way down here, and by means of the “printed word,” but still, you do convey it beautifully! It sounds just capital!


    • Thank you, if by that you mean that the form itself causes sonnets to be beautiful generally. Not all of mine do justice to the form; however sometimes I am satisfied in my own work.

      If the form it not well understood, it can sometimes present a writer quite too many challenges–with rather disastrous results!! Still I believe I agree with the spirit of your comment–which I believe was its intent.


    • Yes, the form of a Sonnet lends to it’s beauty to me… Your’s is very nice and Lady Day is a fabulous writer, thus a very inspiring muse. I on the other hand have only written a handful of sonnet attempts over the years but didn’t keep any that I know of. I am not a poet, I just write… if that makes sense. :D


    • Thank you. I have observed this as a man–before and after fatherhood. It is not often consciously realised that rather than being of hard hearts by nature fathers–depending of course upon their respective temperaments–must sometimes harden their hearts to face the challenges they must face. I know I have wrestled with this myself; for I am of a quite romantic nature. Sometimes the balance is quite difficult to maintain to ones satisfaction.

      Thank you for your considered and heartfelt comment.


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