Tag Archives: Forms

Sonnet I: Mirror

Posted by David Emeron on

To feel my hand upon a shape, a form
I find familiar in its drape: though known,
It overwhelms my hand by touch alone,
Though sight and sound and scent and savour warm

Me to its thrill, its pleasurable norm,
And call me to its side.  And I alone
May know I should confide in that I own,
And hence am owned by that which I transform.

I feel it know at once, as once I know
The day such stark perfection will arrive.
I know reflexively, almost as though
The figure in the mirror comes alive

And reaches out with anything but this:
A touch of any kind, except a kiss.

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

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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 III: Why Weepest Thou

Posted by David Emeron on

But true, wilt thou persist or see the way
Thou dost simplistic observations keep?
Or know, such faults as these, will oft portray
Intractable assaults when bound with sleep?

And once, when thou thy fortunes gather new
Canst thou imagine now this shining day?
Such limits spilt and providence withdrew;
Wilt thou thine old devotion disobey?

But seest thou such transcendent ways; as one
With tears of joy doth much that day push through
To innocence far greater, when begun
Thy long observed creation to undo?

Yet weep thou, and thy soul is Earthly spun
Into the deep, and ne’er to be undone.

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

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Intro: Evolution

Posted by David Emeron on

Things in life evolve
I, now uncaught on detail,
resolve that haiku,

when planned more strictly,
will not break a single thought
on separate lines.

On the other hand,
for sonnets, great shrines more strict,
more pursuing sound;

the stricture of both
could recombine with pressure
when mixed together.

Doing round numbers
of haiku, would misalign
within a sonnet.

It makes me sigh, too;
for, on my honour, I’d cry
if that myth were true.

Instead, there must be
eight haiku to see it through;
and then I combat

with four pale sounds.
And its sextet, for a tail,
sports “etcetera,

“etcetera.”

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