His shape as pleaseth me, this fiery art
Doth longsome dream to me whilst gripped in sleep.
Shot through with lightning’s fire, doth dream impart
Such thrill: convivial to wake, to weep,
To think it trivial that thence I’ve gone,
That this Oneiran path: forever lost;
Not Morpheus, nor Hypnos’ other Spawn
Reveals’ this darkened place to whence I crost;
For these three Sons shall ‘ever show
A mortal man each labyrinth but once.
So at my waking hour, must I go
Away within imaginings, unless some bunce
Befall me; kindly providence might choose
To call me with such luck as I may use.
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:
David Emeron: Sonnets 
The inner rhyme scheme when read aloud…oh my! You are good, my sweet. I love this series, it takes me back to the imaginary collections of famous sculpture we spoke of so often when we were young. Happy hours spent.
The Nefer cries her plea
With haste I go, my steps unsteady
She doggs them as I face the stair
And crowds my decent
With intent to flee this place
Of soft carpet and hard rules…
as in
(Yes, I have to take the dog out;
and yes, I just know
you could write a sonnet about it. heh)
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I have had some small trouble when it comes to my ability to write to order. Perhaps this speaks to the heart of other matters which have and do vex me.
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This is another of the pieces I was telling you about ~~ the ones I see from the inside like a house. I meant to tell you that.
It is very beautiful.
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I had all but forgotten about this one. It is almost like I am reading it now for the first time. I guess I do like it.
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