Tag Archives: Love

Sonnet: Kept Faith

Posted by David Emeron on

Have faith, my sweet, believe that I will rise
As high as life requires, at the least.
So quiet then the tears within thine eyes.
I promise, certain as is life, increased

Beyond that borderline, shall I release
Decisively, and with resolve, reprise
My triumphs past, and so surpassed, appease
Divinity herself; such feats, she’d prize.

For thee, within the chance of life, I thrive;
In everything I do or may achieve.
With thee, I cannot help but ever strive
To manifest such feats as we conceive.
For thee, and with thee, I am come alive.
For thee, and with thee, if thou but believe.

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Sonnet: Heart’s Desire

Posted by David Emeron on

First day I saw this Universe take flight,
My place within it firmly on the Earth,
And since that moment–from my second birth–
Did I begin to live amidst the light.

The second day I learned of what I might–
What stark perfection I would–never touch,
Nor even look upon but once. But such,
For lack of which, has swept me hence to night.

The Third, in all its perfect form, arrived
On Earth and granted all that I desire,
Left nothing by its dawning to aspire
Nor any by its dawning thus to strive.
So, having every life’s desire to choose
Leaves naught to gain and everything to lose.

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Sonnet: Gone

Posted by David Emeron on

Through countless centuries you’ve gone with me.
You’ve followed me from world to world it seems;
To other galaxies and into dreams
Of lands that never were or will not be.

Whenever from I call, you’ve heard my voice,
So ready to be taken to the place,
From which I, longing, called to you. Your face,
Alight with angels’ fire, so too, with joys

Of more, and greater, joy which was to come;
Of promised beauty that you knew you’d see;
Of past events whose fabric only we
Would touch; of futures, countless, and wherefrom
My dreams, if held alone, could not come true—
So meaningless, if not because of you.

Intro: Everything I Do

Posted by David Emeron on

The second time she
asked me to write a sonnet,
this is what I wrote.

Everything I write
is for my wife. Has always
been. Shall ever be.

Everything I do,
my very life. As much hers
As it is for me.

Hers is every word
as I write, or as I read–
graphite, ink, or throat.

I think I may have gotten carried away there. So I might as well present in proper format all of the above.

Written in July of 2012. Does it count, or not?

Sonnet VII: Respite

Posted by David Emeron on

In peace, my love, forever do I goe,
That blessed nectar I adored to seek,
That gave thee rest and ease in its mystique
That long ago hath poured and I bestow.

Take thou, my love,  these tears that overflow
To quench thy soul; restored, do they forespeak
To thee; I shed them gladly, take my cheek
To drink–so blush, as though with wine aglow.

But soft, my sweet, and drink thou ever deep;
Breathe now the vapours of my soul–and heart:
Read thou its sonnets, and thou wilt mee know.
But peaceful, shall I lay thee down to sleep,
Bequeathing thee, when we awake, such art
And dance that from thy hearth shall never goe.

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