Sonnet IV: Her Remembrance of My Music

From out his music here doth ’round me spin
A fabric, quickly woven, as of light,
From golden thread of gossamer, so fine,
This shield around me now; and I inside.

And here! I see the hues of light within,
That dance about me, furious in flight;
And here! I see his music tryst and twine
And mimic and encircle and collide.

His song that maketh touch and sight therein
And sound, and taste, and even scent, unite;
Where memory of past and future, mine,
Shall join, and like a prism, subdivide.

So why reach out when all within is right?
For here, confined, doth all my soul reside!

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


4 responses to “Sonnet IV: Her Remembrance of My Music

  1. I admire anyone who can write sonnets convincingly, can get the ‘feel’ of them right, and can make the pentameter a ripple rather than repeated blows with a jackhammer. I rather cut my poetic teeth on sonnets, having written many myself and having edited a magazine and an anthology of sonnets.

    Of course they don’t have to use archaic language – ‘doth’ and so on – they can be hauled right into the 21c. I like the almost delicate way you have rhymed AB(a)(b)AB(a)(b)AB(a)(b)B(b).


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