Tag Archives: Mystery

Sonnet VI: Her Call

Posted by David Emeron on

I hear the rain; she calleth as she did
So many years ago. But now I can
Not heed this pain. She claimed me as her man;
No longer is it so. Thus am I hid

From she, whom hath she been, my dearest love.
Thou canst but ask: But why dost thou forsake
This holy path of love which thou bespake
To be the flask who’s nectars rank above

All fruit; wherethrough, all Gods and men, subsist.
But to be true, I sometimes answer her;
Though not so loudly she should know exists
The man she proudly loved, because he were
The shell of what he was, so shan’t she know
The depths, so shut, a failing love may go…

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

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Sonnet IV: Her Dance

Posted by David Emeron on

Curious, the rain whence cometh down,
She falleth soft in overwhelming drops;
In peace, her quietly pervading sound
Transformeth sun and moon–so uninvited.

Strange, that once her drops, when they invade,
As former they, her forest’s ardour stops;
Though cities in the stead of trees pervade
And held as quiet sway–so unexcited.

Pleasing, how again she doth return
Such streets and buildings, parking lots and shops;
To older days  for which they seem to yearn,
So mixt with all her fallen tears–united.

Older she than land they wrest; her crops,
If brick or straw are we–and unrequited.

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

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Intro 4: Once More?

Posted by David Emeron on

Back, perhaps by popular demand,
Once again, shall my pen turn rainward,
To wash away one desire;

To cleanse its paper palette,
Making way for others quite the opposite,
Although every bit as lovely.

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Sonnet I: Thine Alone

Posted by David Emeron on

My beauty-rain, O let me feel thy cooling
Warmth again–thine effervescent touch;
To sink within thy sweetest nature, pooling;
Feel thy sweetest yield surround me such:

First hint of tender touch and faerie fire
So doth mee now thy promised passion lend,
And fill mee with my single heart’s desire:
To dance the love thine elements portend.

For thee, my passion climbeth as none other,
Yearning songs, yet melancholy, slow;
When thou art near, my gentle, warming love,
Thou bringest lasting peace though must thou goe.

Could any foolish mortal claim the right
To boast thou dost caress, unknowingly, thy man tonight?

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

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Sonnet: Emblazoned

Posted by David Emeron on

How radiant you were when you believed
That I would, in my innocence, remain
The same untouched, beloved child and gain
A balance none but you could have achieved.

How Beautiful you were when you were wrong.
What did you love in that reluctant child?
Perhaps you saw his brilliance or his wild
Emblazoned soul which you believed was strong.

I pitied you the moment when you knew
That there, before you, stood no tower of strength,
But just a fragile, though artistic child.
I pitied you the burning love which you
Incessantly embraced; and though at length,
A shroud to grace, you chose to live awhile.

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