Tag Archives: Literature

Long answer to RLK….

Posted by David Emeron on

My!  All that from a short note (for me) on haiku!

Oddly striking in all of this: most of my poetry is freeverse, just not what I choose to publish.  Early on though, my sonnet writing began.  And, because I was emulating/idolizing great writers I most admired, and because my dearest loves it so, I began using (however imperfectly) Elizabethan and Early Modern English.  Even then, I found my way to more modern English.  You will see it here and there represented.  Older forms of English can be more difficult because of the syllabic changes in verb conjugations.  As such, modern English is rather more flexible which, of course, is why I use the more difficult form.  Besides the obvious, it’s the greater challenge.
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Sonnet: Thieves

Posted by David Emeron on

Through turns and twists, an endless beat, we ran;
I’d spurn the mists, descend to meet with thee.
We’d turn a bend upon a stone, and we
Would earn an end, and on our own, began.

But for a while–and never knowing when–
Once more to smile, then time to go, it was.
Through turns, we twist, an endless beat, and us
Returned, we list, pretend, and meet again.

You’d wrest some rest from lies and flight, and stole
From me some paradise, not quite forlorn.
I took, from you, a measure of that sworn
A garden, too. You stole no treasure, whole;
But gave us shrift, though magical and brief.
Forgiveness gifts me gratitude, my thief!

Sonnet VII: Lucky

Posted by David Emeron on

It’s true, I always get what I desire,
But most of my desires rest in you.
Such boyish dreams, but definitely knew
What would, in all complexity, transpire;

I knew the field, I knew the world entire;
And this, that every wish of mine came true.
I saw our lives as they began anew,
And understood what life would then require.

That both of us, so perfectly sincere;
So very much as when we first began;
And now, as once we did, we would declare;
As strong as ever once, and as severe;
And all our long tomorrows, better than
Our yesterdays; and all beyond compare.

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

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