Category Archives: Sonnets

Sonnets, or anything I call by that name. Sometimes an invented sonnet-like form.

Sonnet: Tropic

Posted by David Emeron on

If I Could know or see a life completely
Through a man’s word, written; not unduly;
If, they have been blurred, and are not truly
Yet for me, intended.  Nor discreetly,

Read of she, her diary, so sweetly
Not a thread of insight, pathos, nor
A fresh idea, nor hatred even.  More
Of which I name, created more Completely?

Even understand it partly?  I
Think not. Knows my heart Miller when I read
His Tropic wrought; or Baudelaire to plumb
His Fleurs du Mal? We know, nor care not, why;
And whereupon shall words of men know heeding;
Merely learn what we, must needs, become?

Sonnet II: Once More for Sam

Posted by David Emeron on

He sung of Sisters close and sweet, and taught;
Of sea, and wealth, he droned a mournful view.
Of Death himself, as fine as Death, he brought
A smile to my lips when fear they knew.

And lovely, to a barren cheek he drew,
The very first and only tear, he claimed.
Of no return, that no man ever knew;
So quick and fleet an image, thus he named:

“In Xanadu…” he dreamt a man beyond;
A man, within that Sunny Dome, was he.
Who dwelt in Paradise that dream had spawned;
I know, his home, he must have lived to see.

For I, enticed by Crystal Caves of Ice;
By Honey Dew, have drunk of Paradise.

Sonnet I: To S. T. C.

Posted by David Emeron on

He sung of Sisters close and sweet; and taught
Of sea and wealth; he droned a mournful view
Of Death as fine as Death himself. He brought
A smile to my lips when all they knew

Was fear; and to a barren cheek he drew
The first and only tear. A place, he claimed,
Of no return, that no man ever knew;
A quickly fleeting image, And he named

It “Xanadu;” he dreamt a man beyond
A man within that Sunny Dome; An he
Should Drink of Paradise that dream had spawned
His home. I know he must have lived to see

Those Crystal Caves of Ice; For I, enticed
By Honey Dew, have drunk of Paradise.

Sonnet: Forgetting Time

Posted by David Emeron on

Alas, though I have searched throughout the nation,
Finding none alive as fair as she;
I thought, most certainly, that some would be
As they, who might approximate her station.

But, there lived not one in all creation;
Not withstanding that, already, we
Have formed a bond unbreakable. To thee
I’m joined, yet none awakened one temptation

That could steal my heart, from thee, away.
Such hurt do now I feel–when I renew
My certainty–for other men, who yet
May never know the firmament to sway
Upon the merest trace of she; forgetting
Time, while they, as mee, their hearts, pursue.

Sonnet: Unspent

Posted by David Emeron on

Her silent feet would pace the night away,
(This feline, onyx, crost my path apace;)
From thwarting silence, thoughts of lost love stray,
(Though padding softly, sporting lost love’s face.)

Appeared she, lofty, when I saw her then.
(Though not sincerely real, an I lament)
I felt her smile, soft; I feel, as when…
(We dwelt in hours, not of ours, spent.)

Love of my heart, O whither hast thou gone!
(Doth silent now and withered step thy wake;)
How empty hath thy pedestal, thereon,
(Condemnt our path–recalleth our mistake.)

But no! lamenting love were wrong; but O!
Unspent, thy steps have left me, long ago.

Sonnet XI: I Promise

Posted by David Emeron on

For Thou art she from whom my Manna flows
And Thou art she for whom I do exist
For Thee I have become a hedonist
For Thee Mine own Desire always grows

For Thou art She from whom my Love arose
And Thou art She with whom I do entwist
For Thee I live with Joy from tryst to tryst
For Thee I Write all Poetry and Prose

For Thee I undertake the mundane world
For Thee I go about my daily deeds
For Thee I show my inner self unfurled
For Thee I set aside all other needs

For Thee I Undertake the Pain to Learn
And Thee To Whom I Someday Will Return

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

Sonnet X: Sister

Posted by David Emeron on

But cleft in twain my heart still yearns for thee;
I yearn to see the magic of thy smile;
I long to hear and see the dreams which we
Have always manifested; all the while

Denying to our other worlds the fact
That this discreet perfection had a name.
It lived, in every thought and deed and act
Which in our lives the other would proclaim.

It cannot be enough to kiss and hold;
For it is thee with whom I am in love.
I love not even life as much as thee.

I only dream of when I may behold
My sweet companion–whom I hold above
All earthly deeds–this sister who loves me.

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