Tag Archives: Literature

Sonnet IV: The Valiant and the Craven

Posted by David Emeron on

So valiantly hast thou thy battles fought
For everyone we love, as well as we.
Our fathers and our mothers lived to see
The grandchildren thy blood and valour bought.

And what a crime that none today are taught
The sacrifice thou chos’t as thy decree,
The horror thou hast braved so valiantly,
Thy blood with which their apathy was wrought.

How they will rage when next the bugle sounds
And none are left to stand before its call.
How they will curse thy gravestones one and all;
Yet none may wake thee in thy hallowed grounds.
With ramparts left unmanned, they’ll know the why,
And know thy sacrifice before they die.

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

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Sonnet III: The Vigilant

Posted by David Emeron on

“I teach the use of ordinance to boys.
It’s just a job, not so unlike your own.
I wake up every morning to the drone
Of my alarm, and teach them what destroys

“And kills. A job like yours,” he said, “employing
Skills ones discipline requires. Condone
The harm or not, my job inspires alone
Young men who sought this life. When mine deploys,

“We, rough and ready, make the day our own.”
“But can you quit?” I asked, “you’ve pledged to keep
It–like a wife–for better or for worse.”

“And, quit or fail, I won’t be sought nor thrown
In jail; nor watch my wife, from heaven, weep
Upon my empty coffin in a hearse.”

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

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Sonnet II: The Devoted

Posted by David Emeron on

So fine are ye who hold the line unsung
By any but those proud few men who know–
By virtue of their own devotion; though
They boast not how they crossed an ocean; young;

An age at which so few would broach, among
Themselves, such grave and worldly things; who show
The world, by deeds, that matters which bestow
Such life! such death! affairs of kings! who slung,

So rife with breath, together, tales told
And sung, and written down, with reverence;
Who know the price which, sometimes, must be paid;
Who, though as any, fear malevolence,
Dare throw down tyrants, numbering untold;
Who pay with blood–the sum that freedom weighed.

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

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Intro: When I Write About Love

Posted by David Emeron on

I’d write about love
I could write all day and night
The words would pour out

But I think it would
because of my own true love
be all too easy

I think I could write
Thrice as I have written once
Time would almost stop

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Sonnet: The Evolution Of…

Posted by David Emeron on

Things in life evolve. I, now uncaught on
Detail, resolve that haiku, when planned more
Strictly, will not break a single thought on
Separate lines. On the other hand, for

Sonnets, great shrines more strict, more pursuing
Sound; the stricture of both could recombine
With pressure when mixed together. Doing
Round numbers of haiku, would misalign

Within a sonnet. It makes me sigh, too;
For, on my honour, I’d cry if that myth
Were true. Instead, there must be eight haiku
To see it through; and then I combat with

Four pale sounds. And its sextet, for a
Tail, sports “etcetera, etcetera.”

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Intro: Evolution

Posted by David Emeron on

Things in life evolve
I, now uncaught on detail,
resolve that haiku,

when planned more strictly,
will not break a single thought
on separate lines.

On the other hand,
for sonnets, great shrines more strict,
more pursuing sound;

the stricture of both
could recombine with pressure
when mixed together.

Doing round numbers
of haiku, would misalign
within a sonnet.

It makes me sigh, too;
for, on my honour, I’d cry
if that myth were true.

Instead, there must be
eight haiku to see it through;
and then I combat

with four pale sounds.
And its sextet, for a tail,
sports “etcetera,

“etcetera.”

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Sonnet III: Where I Rest

Posted by David Emeron on

So quiet thou beside me; so austere
Dost thou confide thee, silently to sleep.
Angelic thou, delightful; though as clear
Dost thou alight believe thou safe to keep…

Thee well protected, do I; and so sweet
Thy dreaming true; mine angel wouldst appear.
And though thou art about me; so discrete
And so devoutly, shall I hold thee near…

And dearly do I wrap thee, my surround
I would enrapt, be to mine own replete.
Delight at once to hold thee and abound
That once untold, rejoice for thee complete…

And wound about thee tightly; and so deep,
Profound, and knightly… love thee; yet I weep….

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

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