Tag Archives: Fixed Verse Forms

Sonnet X: Fell

Posted by David Emeron on

Fell to Love, fell to beauty, fell to lore,
Fell to dance, fell to music; fell to whose
Enthral, embrace, encapsulating muse
Who gave, who held, who sheltered me, who swore
This oath to any failing excuse.

And fast was sealed, unbreakable before
A moment passed, this oath to me adore–
Adore, allow, and compromise refuse
To grant, to sanction; not in war, nor peace,
Nor gravity, nor passion, nor caprice;

In every moment, promised to hold true;
In every second, took me deep into
A distant land where none could me pursue–
So taken by a grasp that cannot cease.

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

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Sonnet IX: Trapped

Posted by David Emeron on

No choice for me to sanctity refuse
Nor hesitate to tenderness adore;
Too long had I such reticence before
My failing-fast reluctance to excuse.

No choice to make; regard the choiceless muse–
That love to which in helplessness I swore.
No choice to take, no helpless choice, the lore
Whose wonderment would grant me solace, whose

Enthral would thrall me with her soft caprice,
Whose warming shield would warn me then into
Whose fate and fatelessness I would pursue.

But now, to cease the hold its hold would cease,
And nary muse nor swear an oath to peace,
My heart will sing its praises to be true!

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

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Sonnet VIII: Hope

Posted by David Emeron on

For one, who sometimes wished or feared to die
Unknown; for one, who grieved or sought to leave
Alone; for one, who would not say goodbye;
Whose mercy then would mercilessly try;

For what shall mercy take ’til mercy’s gone
Awry; for what deceiving took to grieve
To cry; for whom, should hope be ‘stowed upon
Whose ardour then would ardent live anon;

And who, in ardour’s happiness had felled
His fate; and who, naive, could earn reprieve
As late; and who, in clarity was held
As sanctified as sanctity dispelled:

Who held enthral, and mercied to deceive;
Who grieved to call his folly or his fall.

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

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Sonnet VII: Despair

Posted by David Emeron on

Beyond too joyous hope to hope to fall
From grace, beyond the reach Thy creeping call
Would trace, beyond the eve that would deceive
Our life and love to misery’s enthral:

Away, we run and hide from Thy dispelled
Enchant, a way to slip away Thy held
Incant, away! ’til we’ve some scant reprieve
Some innocence of that our lives were felled.

Depart our path! so might we live anon
Past night; depart! or join us now upon
Our flight; for we perceive that Thou wouldst grieve
Would we depart without Thee, and were gone.

But still… our love would try… to still goodbye,
To stay our leave… and hesitate to die.

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

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Sonnet VI: Aftermath

Posted by David Emeron on

What did I gain; what medal did I earn
That showed I gave–and nothing but my best–
When what would die in battle was a dream,
Such dreams as fade away when once confessed?

What did I profit; what was left to learn
When fighting for a dream had left me vexed
And reeling from this death in the extreme
Rapidity of my defence?  What next

Would fade; when hence, what of my heart’s concern
Forbade continuance; what prayer could
I speak, or beg, or wrest of my esteem?
And who would answer me when next I stood?

Yet I return to war–still feinting, deft–
This battle to redeem, with nothing left.

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

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Sonnet V: Redoubt

Posted by David Emeron on

All was given, everything was left,
And every hope would swell that I redeem
With nothing taken out; and when I deftly
Built up my redoubt, I felt returning

All that gifted, everything that stood
To gain and give me gain in my esteem
In every way in which such profit could
So bolster my redoubt, my feared concern

That some were not as they appeared; that next
To me–so closely held to my extreme—
So close my sense of safety had been vexed
To lay such siege, my hasty need to learn

How best to live within a fading dream
When once confessed, received, but did not earn.

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

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