It May Not Be So
But then, from whence does it come?
Where, if not from this?
Tag Archives: Hope
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 VII: Reflected
When I, within the mirror, thee regard;
But not of thine, which shone in silvered glass;
Nay, this, that all the many years discard;
As though no year might ever for thee pass.
So fair, thy sherry coloured hair and eyes;
Thy perfect form I see, as straight and hard;
Thy smile, seeming beautiful and wise;
And strong thy limbs, by time are nary scared.
If thou couldst know what wonders thee await;
More wondrous than most any thou surmise;
If thou couldst only see thy pain abate;
And know how much of life this pain denies.
How few thy years; alas, how little wait;
My life surpast, when thou such things instate.
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:
Intro 7: To Have Courted Wisdom
I wish I would have
I wish I could have listened
To every wisdom.
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:
David Emeron: Sonnets 