Tag Archives: Iambic Pentameter

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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Intro 4: Once More?

Posted by David Emeron on

Back, perhaps by popular demand,
Once again, shall my pen turn rainward,
To wash away one desire;

To cleanse its paper palette,
Making way for others quite the opposite,
Although every bit as lovely.

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Sonnet II: Deprived of Thee

Posted by David Emeron on

My Rain, why left me here, hast thou, alone
Without, luxuriant cool, thy tender kiss?
Of thee, I dream, confess of that I miss,
Deprived of thy caress. My Rain, mine own

Sweet Rain, hath left me only wind, and blown
Away. Thy lofty havens toss and list
Astray. Hast thou forgotten me in bliss?
And am I not thy dearest love alone?

Come back to me, my cool and softing Rain!
And cover up this never-ending blue!
Touch now my lips, my hair, and end this pain
Of missing you. I long to see thy true
Face shining through my lonely night again,
So prest against my yearning lips anew.

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

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Sonnet XIII: Falling

Posted by David Emeron on

Extraordinary blooms, ye mustn’t fall,
Although bereft of you I plaintive sing;
Complete, your gifted dedication all–

For nothing–your renunciation; bring…
To me, my restlessness, one restful gift,
Another consequential tear, one ring…

Of truthful blossoming, cascading swift,
Of falling and of blowing, gently brave;
Traversing mountains, even oceans, lift–

Beyond torrential, gentle blossoms gave;
Beyond such starfields, drop and bloom perfect;
Away… beyond temporal counting, save…
Our loneliness, do each to us affect;
As petal-drops, alone, our days reflect.

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

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