Tag Archives: Hope

Sonnet IV: One Step Away

Posted by David Emeron on

But really, I am fine as I began.
Without the curse of living free from strife,
I really have the very best of life.
Although not much is mine, I truly can

Bespeak my luck. I truly am a man
Who cannot duck his purpose, who is rife
With strength to take his coming step. That life
Is something best among, or better than

The best the universe can offer me;
Or better still–the strife that makes it sweet–
Its promise will, so  lift and ever free
My soul for endless triumph and defeat.
If only God, who gifts me so, could see
The need to keep His gifts to me discrete.

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

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Sonnet III: Step after Step

Posted by David Emeron on

First, second, third, and fourth, I walk alone
With measured footsteps, each one as the last;
My future is as hopeless as the past;
These plodding steps, the only things I own.

I face my work, I wake, I sleep, I hone
My pace to take more measured steps. Not fast
Nor slow, I have become adept at last
At going nowhere. See how I have grown

Such roots, and with such care, which but permit
The taking of a single measured step
And then another–fancy how they fit
My feet. This pace would scarcely ever let
Me eat, except that I might starve to death
And that would end the measure of my breath.

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

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Sonnet IV: Her Dance

Posted by David Emeron on

Curious, the rain whence cometh down,
She falleth soft in overwhelming drops;
In peace, her quietly pervading sound
Transformeth sun and moon–so uninvited.

Strange, that once her drops, when they invade,
As former they, her forest’s ardour stops;
Though cities in the stead of trees pervade
And held as quiet sway–so unexcited.

Pleasing, how again she doth return
Such streets and buildings, parking lots and shops;
To older days  for which they seem to yearn,
So mixt with all her fallen tears–united.

Older she than land they wrest; her crops,
If brick or straw are we–and unrequited.

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

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Sonnet I: Thine Alone

Posted by David Emeron on

My beauty-rain, O let me feel thy cooling
Warmth again–thine effervescent touch;
To sink within thy sweetest nature, pooling;
Feel thy sweetest yield surround me such:

First hint of tender touch and faerie fire
So doth mee now thy promised passion lend,
And fill mee with my single heart’s desire:
To dance the love thine elements portend.

For thee, my passion climbeth as none other,
Yearning songs, yet melancholy, slow;
When thou art near, my gentle, warming love,
Thou bringest lasting peace though must thou goe.

Could any foolish mortal claim the right
To boast thou dost caress, unknowingly, thy man tonight?

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

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Sonnet II: Earthbound

Posted by David Emeron on

To Earth are bound my feet, though still they strive
For starfields, climbing to complete, on high,
A staircase wrought of air, while wond’ring why
This heartless Earth’s, unfair. So I contrive

To sing of more; a tale of how alive
My mind may soar! That takes my feet where sky
May go. But not where they may someday fly.

Although such possibilities arrive,
This island’s all the ether they may know.
And Earth may fall, though lush and beautiful
And built upon in ways of which I’m fond.

Yet when foregone, the Earth they may outgrow–
They’ll make a chariot that, dutiful,
Will show my children’s children the beyond.

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

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