At last, the dawn, in perfect form, I see
So formed, a positive reality.
Its purple state, its perfect choir, unveil
To shine, inspiringly, its song on me.
With form, and measure never void, it brings
A subtle mastery of the world it sings.
Without abash, I hear it tell a tale
Of majesty, and many more such things
Which burn with glory’s power, as they shine
Upon this shadow dappled world of mine.
My dreams are splendour, as they dance–prevail
With measure, and with form, and perfect line!
And dance I shall, as light–as mirrors bright
Reflect–avails, ’til dark, ’til death, ’til night!
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:
Thank you! This was an interesting result. I came upon an old, unpolished work of mine. Not exactly in this form, but in tetrameter (four-beat) Originally there were 4 quatrains (groups of 4 lines) The original rhymescheme was AAxA, BBxB, etc. where ‘x’ is non rhyming. I thought one could sonnetize that by turning the non-rhyming ‘x’ into a rhyme that carries through.
Also, on that note, I’m starting to think that to describe rhymeschemes, one might perhaps use letters and numbers, or perhaps, upper and lower case letters, for different types of rhymes. And perhaps, ‘x’ might indicate lines that do not rhyme?
As an example, to describe the above, one could do the following:
AA1A, BB1B, etc. Or perhaps 11A1, 22A2, etc. Thus one draws a distinction between the two types of rhymes–as ephemeral, or as immortal (one carrying on forever and one only briefly seen in one verse.) It makes more sense when I look at it. What you usually see would be AABA, CCBA, etc, but where “A” feels like a “first rhyme” “C” really feels like a “second” (or a B) but, in this kind of numbering, “C” generally means “3” which makes the notation confusing, and one has to think about it a bit more, to decipher.
I go into both the subject of this form and the subject of notation here:
This one ages well, my dear. It keeps getting more exquisite by the day!
I am so glad you are doing this going back and reworking or, leaving as it. Such a wonderful trip to a different Mr. E or rather, a younger one. You and I both apparently have dawn on the brains but my foray was only 17 syllables. Mine is a small black and white poto while your dawn is a resplendent large painting in oils. I like this and also again, the way you expand on the form and scheme of the poem.
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I feel remiss, of late. Death takes a fair lot out of one long before He comes to call.
Yes, He does. Is this the reason for all the travels?
Yes. I am afraid so. But… It is an adventure also, so not all bad, to be sure.
My husband’s father died in Feb. And people had to travel from as far away as Texas. It was good to see them but for such a wretchef reason. Odd combo of sad and glad.
Yes, that is the way of such things. Time and again we go through this when we survive our elders, and now, even our juniors.
Surviving our juniors seems to be the hardest.