It May Not Be So
But then, from whence does it come?
Where, if not from this?
Tag Archives: Happiness
Sonnet I: When He Fell
Might he have fallen when he saw her face,
If so enchanting was her smile–too young
Must she have been–and tyrian among
Oviedo’s great; or when she danced, so graceful
Were her palmas and her whirling lace,
She gave him tantalizing baile–flung
Careening adoration; when she sung,
As Andalusian cantos did embrace
Regarding not her reach; or did the sound,
Laughing delicate from out a learner’s
Able hand–nimble, did her fingers bound,
Tripping lightly over octaves–earn her
Triumph; with–crossing leagues of royal blue–
Iokean lips, though never history knew?
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:
Intro 1: Quite A Challenge
If I have my way,
you’ll all know why
I wrote this.
And then,
you’ll also know why
I said it was
quite an intriguing challenge,
if you look closely.
Intro 9: What Begins
So close to the end,
So close to the beginning,
What begins this end?
Sonnet III: Take Thy Care
Above all, tend thy body, treat not cavalier
The vessel of thy mind and soul; for where
Thy foolishness, ephemera revere,
So ever, doth for each, the other care.
What providence might I impart of this!?
What bounty bring, avoiding such despair.
If not such caution, would I be remiss?
This wisdom, give I thee, beyond compare.
I yearn to tell the ease thou shouldst have won;
Or how simplicity wouldst bring thee bliss;
And wish thy time for these could be outdone–
Not lateness now these choosings reminisce.
Though ne’er may be these hands of time outrun;
So could thine ease much sooner have begun.
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:
Intro 3: Hindsight Observed
So simple are such
As would, effortless, give us
All our years; and more.
Sonnet II: The Most Important Thing
That art thou most of consequence to me–
Thy tender age doth all to me pertain–
What may I tell, that wouldst thou not foresee;
And warn of that from which thou shouldst abstain?
Fear not, shouldst thou, pursuit of all thine aims;
For rest shalt thou enough to persevere.
Nor fear the end of that which life proclaims;
For shalt thou cease, one day, to live in fear.
And never, thy demeanour, show as meek;
For this thine own frustration will prolong.
Nor fail to strive, believing thou art weak;
For shall, one day, travail make thee strong.
And know, thou shouldst, one truth, all else above:
With all thy strength, pursue thy dearest love.
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:
David Emeron: Sonnets 