Sonnet IV: Her Hand

Yet lightly, and demure in size, doth touch
This hand, that doth caress unlike mine own.
Not slight, and yet not strong, but sure of such
As it commandeth, earnestly, then coy.

As teareth me away from my command
So might I fall, as willing, from my throne.
And dareth my resolve, that it withstand
Delightful magic, as it might deploy.

Its form, as true, yet different from its brother
Whom it, mercilessly, hath outshone.
Hath God imbued it, greatly, with another
Element, diverse, as would employ

Such ease–an action planned,  would it postpone;
That please, from out thine hand, thy love enjoy?

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

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Sonnet III: Sublime

Express, shall I, what nature, perfect, is?
Thine every fibre, doth it answer me;
And giveth, every answer, what thou wilt;
But shalt thou, my reflection, never be.

So shall my sweet surround, make perfect bliss;
Thine answer’s twist doth make mine arms surround;
And maketh gather up, and without guilt,
Again, to make this circle thus abound.

I promise then, that wheresoever this,
Our passion, taketh thee beyond the world;
Thine answer, sweetest, never to be spilt,
No matter, gathered up, where art thou hurled.

Wherever then, I pledge, that dost thou sway;
So fast, mine hold, wilt not thou twist away.

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

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Sonnet II: Inspired

So hot within, and burning of its own;
Can this exist?  Such mystery!  So much
Doth this incalesence my hand alight.
Do this I feel?  Or this I thrill to touch?

Such taste!  Once cool, luxuriantly grown!
Now serous, thawed, deliciously beset;
And dripping wild implore, and sweet delight,
This form doth crave me, sybaritic, wet:

As poised, and shook, reverberating! Prone
Beneath my fingers: arch, and push, and curve;
And sparkling like crystal with excite,
So shot with lightning’s fire, every nerve…

Then cool… this down of twilight, quiet shone;
Where she is mine this night, and mine alone.

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

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Early this afternoon…

…I began feeling a bit under the weather.  And in a few minutes, I will settle down into my bed with my laptop and something fizzy to soothe my throat, and write the answer to Will Shakespeare’s sonnet II; which prompt, I have already posted.  I do like doing these; however, now I have two sequences that are essentially notes to myself.  I’m not sure how to characterise that.

Also: I, of late, have been thinking I should number all my sonnets.  I am not sure the numbering system I should use, however.  There are the short sequences and there should be some method for making them sequential whether or not I add to them later or not.  Still… that type of enumeration, in and of itself, might be confusing as well.  Perhaps I should just use plain sequential numbers and keep things in date order.  That, or I could use two different systems depending on what type of cataloguing I, or another reader, might like to do.

Kirkpatrick” type numbers and perhaps “Shorto” (rather than “Longo“) numbers.  This is a reference to Domenico Scarlatti, whose sonatas have three different numbering systems, mostly rather confusing, with Kirkpatrick being the most used–and which puts Scarlatti’s sonatas in sequential order by date as well as can be done.

Regarding my sonnets, these ‘K’ numbers would be chronological simply as: K1, K2, K3, &c.

The ‘S’ numbers would be Chronological as S1, S2, S3, &c; except where sequences are involved, I would then, perhaps, note the place where sonnet number one of a sequence first appears (whether it is out of order or not) and then, for example:

If S2 marks the first of a sequence, it will be numbered S2.1, and the next in the sequence would be S2.2, S2.3, &c, (all the way up to S2.154 or more if necessary!)  These would not indicate very well how many sonnets in total there might be, but the ‘K’ numbers would be for that purpose.

I might even try ‘P’ numbers also, for “Petrucci,” or whatever type of pasta the third system for classifying Scarlatti’s sonatas is named; which might group all sonnets by subject, perhaps in a similar way as the ‘S’ numbers.  Very well… I looked it up, it is, in fact, “Pestelli.” Sounds delicious, perhaps tossed with seafood and Alfredo sauce.  This is making me hungry.  “Feed a cold,” do they say, after all.

This would make the mnemonic for these three systems fairly straight forward.  If ‘K’ numbers are simple enumerators, and ‘S’ numbers are sequence based, and ‘P’ numbers are subject related; then we might say “Count, Sequence, Passion,” which would help one remember which is which:  K for count (or Kount), ‘S’ for sequence, and ‘P’ for passion (hence subject).

I suppose I could also use the unique post id that wordpress provides.  However, this, I have found does not exist on every screen wherein one might want or need it.

I could, of course, leave such enumeration to posterity, but I find myself needing and wanting such numbers now, for a variety of reasons.

Sonnet I: Alighted Grace

But sleek, one shape as wondrously soft,
More perfect in its drape than might one think;
And such, should be perfection held aloft,
That by this, would its height so make one sink.

For perfectly it thwarts ones every thought;
So pliant-smooth it courts by its design,
That brought so every instinct as it ought;
Requires nary thought to intertwine.

More alien than truly might one guess;
As fell another species though from sky;
Alighted grace, such beauty as would bless
The altar of my sleep, this place whereby,

As master and as slave, I feel anew;
Each moment strave my every wish come true!

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

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Sonnet I | RL King:A Written World

Does your world spin wild through black of night?
Do you crave my hold, my kiss, my embrace?
Do you ache in desire, my lips to trace?
Do you look and see, my flicker of light?
Do I touch your soul, does it burn, ignite?
Could you have loved this splinter of my grace?
Would you hold me…if tears streamed on my face?
Tell me you would not, else, what a sad plight.

For, I would love thee, ever and a day,
What fool threw away this one that I see?
Did they not see the strength of your fierce heart?
To feel your breath as it moves upon me,
Caress your soul with mine, ever there stay…
You are my passion…you, dear love, my art.

via Sonnet I | RL King:A Written World.