I cannot bear the solitude
That both of us
Would leave
Behind
Tag Archives: Life
Sonnet IV: Hour Lives
All life with thee is given me, alive
Withal, for each, by each, to our increase;
An hour, and our lives as do we strive
A second’s brief eternity to lease.
And seconds lived eternally to gift
Us aeons whereupon, should we survive
As aeons of eternity adrift,
Not one brief second ever shall deprive
Our joy, as joy to both of us so strives.
And years as seconds nightly pass as swift
As all the teeming joy that nightly thrives;
As all the seeming seconds briefly lift.
Then cease our fleeting aeons; each survives
Release, yet fleets the seconds of our lives. Then…
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:
Sonnet IV: What Remains
Although to thee thou wouldst that life is lost;
Declaim the shame of all that it contains;
My love doth live in this thou wouldst accost;
Yet see how free her innocence remains.
I would that shouldst thou know thine eyes may trust,
That she as thee such trial here sustains;
Though long hath life to her so dealt unjust;
Yet still she will her innocence remains.
I pity thee if still thou canst not see,
The difference from thy sameness she attains;
Though lost, thy life the same, my love is free;
Through this abyss, her innocence remains.
So deep the sweetness still thy soul contains,
I pray this day thine innocence remains.
This sonnet is part of a short sequence: click here to read it all:
Sonnet II: What Is Kept
Take care young girl in what thou keepest real,
For what thou real profess, wilt thou become;
And be thy carriage drawn to thine ideal,
Wherefore should–pure for thee–white horses come?
This trap thou, from thy cold demesnes, create;
So frozen deep canst thou escape therefrom;
May not thy carriage, soul with ice conflate;
Through frost, could–lost to thee–white horses come?
How good or sweet, when meanness harsh thy word,
Bereave thine heart, and lovely spirit numb?
For passed thy carriage, thine entreat unheard;
And would–nor should to thee–white horses come.
Thy carriage, see to rancour’s cost, succumb.
And ne’er–not ere for thee–white horses come.
This sonnet is part of a short sequence: click here to read it all:
Intro 2: Reality May Bite
What is real to thee
So real does it ever seem,
May be a phantom.
Take care this realness
Is not a dagger with which
To slay thine own soul
Sonnet I: What Is Lost
Readeth not these lines; they are not, young girl,
For thee. They are, to souls like thine, forbidden,
Though they may betray what hast thou hidden
In thine heart, these words should not unfurl
Thy feelings. Thou hast cast thy lot to hurl
Them, stealing–strong or even weak, amid
The squealing swine to be forever hid–
From thine own soul, unknowing, every pearl.
Readeth, thou must not, these lines; they do not
Describe what hast thou chosen. Even now,
Thine heart is frozen. Thou hast cast thy lot
Not winning life, but dreary death; for thou
Hast chosen strife, bereft of song and verse;
And all thy long tomorrows are a curse.
This sonnet is part of a short sequence: click here to read it all:
Intro 1: If Only
Could you see in Spring
what I have seen in Summer,
you might have chosen
fulfilment in life
in Fall to better yourself.
And then, looking back,
you might even see
how desolate in Winter
your life might have been,
if you had never
made that fateful decision
on one Spring morning.
David Emeron: Sonnets 