Thou Hastefully Commanded my Command
And ever hast Controlled all My Control,
Forsaking Everything and Giving All.
Tag Archives: Love
Sonnet VI: Landscape
When I have seen this place–this loveliness
That sweeps with valley as with rolling hill.
With meadowland and velvet can it bless
My hand, unfettered form, or lips but still.
Yet each would know that restless, is this place,
As Earth; as sweet, as wanton, and as cruel;
For what it gives it also takes, its face
With joyfulness, intense with warm or cooling
Passion is this vexing earth, not restful
Knowing never what it feels nor wants
And seldom what would serve its beauty best.
Not once can it be stilled; see how it daunts:
Yet even if I willed myself as much
To seek another clime, I would thee touch.
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:
Intro 6: Phenomenon
How interesting
That this place is not a place;
But a state of mind.
Sonnet V: Whatever Thy Perfection Doth Require
I close my longing eyes; envisage thee;
Reflection manifesting not my hands;
Imprisoned lightning, countenanced with fire;
Shot through, withal, mine every wish commands’.
Extremity, thy tapered waist’s degree;
Impossible perhaps, if not sublime;
And yet, sublime, thy perfect form–admire
This hourglass that so-confoundeth time.
Nor could reflected shadowing foresee
Such helplessness within, as now I feel;
Restrained, regarding mine embraced desire
Ensnaring; captor, caught without appeal;
This weal of metaphor thy warder barred;
Imprisonment inspired such a guard.
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:
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:
Intro 4: What Touch
Is it merely a hand
Nary very different from mine own hand?
What maketh it so different?
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:
David Emeron: Sonnets 