Sonnet III: Family

At last! the Rain! who triumphs as She falls
To tame the Wood who drinks Her as She calls
His name. Insatiable tonight, this Rain
Who nourishes His great and wooden halls.

So long, so passionate, this sweet affair;
Young Forest; sweet, His Rain; discrete, Their care;
Adorns She this, His stature and His strength,
His fingers, leafy, brush Her streaming hair.

When first I saw Them courting through the night,
Her tempest, brazen, teased His leaves to flight;
And coy, Her tear-drops mingled with His dew;
So sparkled He, as She, with joy and light.

Though Earth were His, and Sky were Her domain;
Her squalls prepare and then delight, at length,
This bassinet wherein Their Children grew.

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

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Sonnet: The Hand of my Beloved

Thy hand hath stopped my fall and lifted me
To quell my tears, and cool my fervid cheeks;
Withal thy power hast thou known its plea:
To grant my heart this respite that it seeks.

Tomorrow, shall I write for thee, although
The Gods are neither fooled nor do they sleep,
But smile upon thee; surely do They know
I sing with joy their deeds an ne’er I weep.

But sweetly given me hast thou my voice,
And moved my spirit; for my hand is thine
To take thy gifted rest; though fear my choice:
That rest will fall to apathy’s decline.

Yet might for me despair make worse my plight;
Tomorrow, with thy gifts, for thee I write.

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Intro 2: Regarding Sonnet II

It appears that this
sequence will grow to four, and
may yet grow to five.

Here: more beautiful
than those upheld by liars.
Hidden in plain sight.

Next: the holy who
will never exist. At least
they will not be raped.

  • Dedicated to
    Irving Bacheller,
    and they
    whose gifts I shall find.
  • How could it be that
    one so great could ever be
    hidden in plain sight?
  • Ever innocent,
    they, knowing not such evil,
    who let it happen.

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