Tag Archives: God

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 VII: Satan’s Silence

Posted by David Emeron on

Could God’s devout assail with flame a room
Of helpless innocents whose only crime:
Descent from their inferno without time
To don a hooded veil, so to their doom

Were sent? What god commands her to a tomb
Half sunk in earth, and rent with stone by grime
Stained hands, a helpless girl? What paradigm–
That knew the violation of her womb,

Then learnt this travesty her god offends!?
Whose crime could be the punishment of rape?
What god is this?  What votary attends?
While gawkers ’round the world in silence gape?

If God gives love, redemption, hope, and breath,
I name him Satan, feignèd god of death.

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

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Sonnet IV: The Valiant and the Craven

Posted by David Emeron on

So valiantly hast thou thy battles fought
For everyone we love, as well as we.
Our fathers and our mothers lived to see
The grandchildren thy blood and valour bought.

And what a crime that none today are taught
The sacrifice thou chos’t as thy decree,
The horror thou hast braved so valiantly,
Thy blood with which their apathy was wrought.

How they will rage when next the bugle sounds
And none are left to stand before its call.
How they will curse thy gravestones one and all;
Yet none may wake thee in thy hallowed grounds.
With ramparts left unmanned, they’ll know the why,
And know thy sacrifice before they die.

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

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Sonnet II: The Devoted

Posted by David Emeron on

So fine are ye who hold the line unsung
By any but those proud few men who know–
By virtue of their own devotion; though
They boast not how they crossed an ocean; young;

An age at which so few would broach, among
Themselves, such grave and worldly things; who show
The world, by deeds, that matters which bestow
Such life! such death! affairs of kings! who slung,

So rife with breath, together, tales told
And sung, and written down, with reverence;
Who know the price which, sometimes, must be paid;
Who, though as any, fear malevolence,
Dare throw down tyrants, numbering untold;
Who pay with blood–the sum that freedom weighed.

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

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Sonnet II: Sleep and Death

Posted by David Emeron on

And yet, thou, quiet at my side, asleep
Hast thus me graced.  Thine own sweet breath,
Thy fairest face so still, but not as death,
As once I thought the only link to keep

Us ever joined would be.   So dark, so deep
Would be our misery; our fate, beneath
A cruel, unblinking sky, would us bequeath,
Or God should grace us, but to weep;

For dreams forsaken, squandered; and to those
From which we shrank, unbidden, with resolve,
With fear, or anger; yet our lives revolve
Around the one, and only one, we chose.

Though only death was certain, dearest wife,
‘Tis better still that it began with life.

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

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Sonnet V: Her Majesty

Posted by David Emeron on

A word, then two, a fountain like a stream
That wears away a mountain. Time, a spring,
Reflection over aeons; it can bring
Perfection. Though it presses down, extreme

In ways of mystery. Its form can seem
To press its history:  On such a common thing
As common coal–transformative–may wring
A diamond fine and whole.  And so supreme

A form may limit, yet such limits might
Become the set of forces pressed upon
So commonplace a line as these I write.

The queen of all poetic forms: I fight
Her storms of pressure, educated on;
And open up my mind to all her light.

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

Sonnet IV: An Oath

Posted by David Emeron on

No Oath, no cause, nor promise do I need;
For promises, with duty, must be kept.
This violet, a promise could impede;
For I, by every faculty, am swept

To tend, and make to prosper, every bloom.
I long have tried to stay my hand; but could
Not ever stay my soul; nor–and, assuming
Such could keep me whole–remand, for good

Or ill, that Holy Thread I share with God.
His will–all beauty, and all bounty, came
From His divine, all knowing light–abroad
To His creations fly; and in His Name,

Created He those beings He deemed as great,
Entrusted, in His image, to create.

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