Category Archives: Sonnets

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

Sonnet IV: (verbs)

Posted by David Emeron on

If I…

  1. did not
    describe my heart, how it
    yearns for you, how it
  2. quickens at every
    sight of you, every instant when I first
    hear your voice, if I
  3. did not
    write of how it
    races when you
  4. come near, that it
    has
    skipped when you
  5. have
    touched me, that it
    pounds with the
  6. expectation of your
    touch, every
    beat so hard that it
  7. shakes my body enough for you to
    see, if I
    chose to
  8. keep the secret of its quiet rhythm in the morning when I
    wake, how long I
    have
  9. lain, quietly
    amazed as our hearts
    beat in perfect
  10. synchrony, that I
    wondered how many minutes
    would
  11. pass before their rhythms
    diverged, every word
    withheld as I
  12. lay down my pen and
    lock it
    away with its barren white sheets, if I
  13. swore not to
    describe my heart,
    would it
  14. stop
    beating
    forever?

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

Sonnet III: (triadic line)

Posted by David Emeron on

If I did not describe my heart
how it yearns for you how it
quickens at every sight of you

every instant when I first hear
your voice if I did not write of
how it races when you come near

that it has skipped when you
have touched me that it pounds
with the expectation of your

touch every beat so hard that it
shakes my body enough for you
to see if I chose to keep the

secret of its quiet rhythm in
the morning when I wake how long
I have lain quietly amazed as our

hearts beat in perfect synchrony
that I wondered how many minutes
would pass before their rhythms

diverged every word withheld as
I lay down my pen and lock it
away with its barren white sheets

if I swore not to describe my
heart would it stop beating
forever?

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

Sonnet II: (freeverse)

Posted by David Emeron on

If I did not describe my heart how it yearns for you
how it quickens at every sight of you every instant
when I first hear your voice if I did not write of how
it races when you come near that it has skipped

when you have touched me that it pounds with the
expectation of your touch every beat so hard that
it shakes my body enough for you to see if I chose
to keep the secret of its quiet rhythm in the morning

when I wake how long I have lain quietly amazed as
our hearts beat in perfect synchrony that I wondered
how many minutes would pass before their rhythms
diverged every word withheld as I lay down my pen and

lock it away with its barren white sheets if I swore
not to describe my heart would it stop beating forever?

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

Sonnet I: (the words themselves)

Posted by David Emeron on

if I did not describe my heart how it yearns for you how it quickens at every sight of you every instant when I first hear your voice if I did not write of how it races when you come near that it has skipped when you have touched me that it pounds with the expectation of your touch every beat so hard that it shakes my body enough for you to see if I chose to keep the secret of its quiet rhythm in the morning when I wake how long I have lain quietly amazed as our hearts beat in perfect synchrony that I wondered how many minutes would pass before their rhythms diverged every word withheld as I lay down my pen and lock it away with its barren white sheets if I swore not to describe my heart would it stop beating forever

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

Sonnet XVIII: A Winter’s Day

Posted by David Emeron on

I shan’t thee to a summer’s day compare;
Thou lov’st not temp’rate climes I yet disdain.
Cold shake thy searing winds I find as fair:
For, over most creation, cold doth reign.

Yet burn thou bright and hot as Heaven’s eye;
And cold and dark, as dark is Neptune’s Lair;
And nary cold may pale nor fade to die
Thy nature’s spark so hidden unaware.

So is this edge infinity for me:
And shalt thou–changeless ’til the edge of time,
Whilst draw my breath, and know mine eyes foresee–
Remain, ’til death shall take me, in thy prime.

Then fades’ thy mem’ry’s pain; for few men see
Such life these lines contain, these give to thee.

David Emeron

This sonnet is part of a short, or
possibly at some point, very long
sequence; click here to read it all:

Sonnet VI: Ten Thousand Treasures

Posted by David Emeron on

Ere winter’s sweetest place distils to night,
Posterity could speak ten thousand times,
Make not forbidden, those that willing fight;
Deface thy ragged killer for its crimes!

Should one refigure life, if not some loan,
Too much the sum in use: art thou contrite?
Depart with usury and pay to own,
And let thy summer’s beauty be thy right.

Another treasure then if make thine heir,
Not e’er time’s hand made e’er thy leaving known;
And treasure done thyself, or bred, were fair,
All happier of thee than thee outshone.

What vial of Death bewitching dreams prepare?
Self-conquest warms thee, vile Death to dare!

This sonnet is part of a short, or
possibly at some point, very long
sequence; click here to read it all:

Sonnet V: The Blessings of God’s Anointed

Posted by David Emeron on

Gaze upon me, O Lovely, and beware,
Or as thy frosts unfairly come, rejoice.
Fair-play with fortune will confound Despair
That, hideous with pride, hath shown its voice.

For never-resting, God’s anointed here
Excel: to verse thy numbered days, to bear
This hell, and lend thee summer; pray to year
Thy days, and keep thee and thy children fair.

In they, our seasons, prisoners are we–
As checked, and sapped, and pent: as tyrants fear
All eyes the beauty we distil may see–
Who gift these days to winter they who sneer:

Though thieving Time all substance yet destroys,
We left thee more than wretched He enjoys.

  • Rededicated to the men and women
    of Sierra Sciences in whose work
    I am in a unique position
    to feel great appreciation
  • David Emeron
    Originally written
    to my younger self

This sonnet is part of a short, or
possibly at some point, very long
sequence; click here to read it all:

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