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
Tag Archives: Longing
Sonnet I: No More
No touch, no sleep, no rest, no love like mine
For thee, shall ere console me in my place
Of rest. No more shall any weight of thine
My breast console. No more, thy fairest face,
Within my whole creation be contained.
No more shall I awaken, feel my heart
And thine, and should not feel that there be twain.
Not rhythm, nor our beings, be made to part.
No more shall flesh be moved nor move mine own
By neither wish, nor thought, nor even touch,
To such a fervent height as we have known–
As only I and thou have felt this much.
Must I, in perpetuity, endure
No more, no more, no more, no more… no more….
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:
Sonnet VI: Sacrament
Remember thou, that shalt thou ‘ever be,
For all of time, mine angel, and my sweet
Respite, that cup for which my heart shall beat,
Superior in infinite degree
To all the finest grape, shall I decree,
May e’er become. And so shall I, replete,
Then worship from thine altar, at thy feet,
And pray that I shall ‘ever drink of thee.
So grant thou me, my sweetest love, this prayer,
And thenceforth shall I worship at thy shrine,
And never for thy succour shall despair
Within that safety, as our hearts entwine.
I’ll thenceforth drink of thee and then declare
That never shall, again, I want for wine.
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:
Intro 6: Repletion
Remember, thou shalt
forever be Mine Angel–
one superior
to all the grape is
able to be. And I shall
ever drink of thee,
sweetest, sweetest love;
and thenceforth I should never
again want for wine.
Sonnet V: Crystal
But here, my sweetest love, and now, I pray
That shouldst thou know, as sure as once thou knew,
That shouldst thou neither worry, nor construe
Of me, nor any kind of doubt, display,
That shan’t I, once I have returned, convey,
Though lost, as found, or never I withdrew
From out the safety of thine arms. I do
Believe that thou shalt, ‘ever charmed this way,
Remain my fragrant, soul refreshing, wine,
Most perfect, thou, and infinitely sweet;
And shalt thou be the crystal–and I think,
A vessel that, so finished and complete,
That Holiest of Holies, made divine,
Thy beauty and thy grace–Wherewith I drink.
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:
Intro 5: Mine
But, hear me now, my
sweetest love, that thou shouldst know
with nary a doubt:
Once I shall have, to
thine arms, returnèd, thou shalt
forever be my
perfect wine, most sweet;
and thou shalt be the crystal
Wherewith I shall drink.
Sonnet IV: Liquid Sorrow
Too well, he knew; did Baudelaire, my twin
Of spirit, forebear of my soul; and knew,
As only he, my dearest poet, grew
To know; this drink was fine, as knew he sin.
So I thereof proclaim to thee, who’s been
My sweetest love, as my devoted, who
For all thy sorrow; as my servant, do
Afore the morrow; as my slave: Begin;
Goe; bring thou me that nectar of my soul,
That finest thing of sweetest Xerex grape,
And wilt thou see, I shall become returned
As he, who thou admirest, the whole
Of me, thy bliss desirest, as burned
Thine heart; and nary, snared as this, escape.
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:
David Emeron: Sonnets 