Tag Archives: Performing Arts

sonnet X: As Thou Hast Seen

Posted by David Emeron on

Of mee, thy love, hast thou such wonders seen,
Though many true, hast not thou seen these all;
Hast not, my dance as stole thy breath away,
So long before and far removed from thine.

Imagine thou what doth breathtaking mean,
If watch me dance thou wouldst as watch me fall.
And long before, this beauty I convey,
So lovely, this I played, who’s bow were mine.

And this, by thee unheard, and thee unseen,
Hath made the harsh to weep, the weak to pall.
Yet heard, hast thou, my song most every day;
And seen thou, throngs, as water turned to wine….

And yet, thy mien my love, could angels thrall;
One day, in Heaven, show me these divine.

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

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Intro 10: Will I See?

Posted by David Emeron on

Things I have not seen…
But wish that someday I shall…
In another life…

In another time…
Although my faith is lacking…
I want the next life…

So I may see you…
Dance for me, and play for me…
As never I’ve known….

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Sonnet: 101.8

Posted by David Emeron on

About me all reality doth spin,
The ground beneath my feet doth buck and twist,
My eyes alight on anything herein,
And will perceive its panic-worthy list.

And panic is the most confused of sound
Which swells and whirls around my pounding ears,
Confusing and directionless: its sound,
Exacerbating measureless: my fears.

Perceive I not the matter I may touch,
As whether hard or soft, or hot or cold.
Although such nature hardly matters much,
such things are all completely uncontrolled.

My digits, my appendages feel thick
I think I am most positively sick.

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Sonnet: In Her Prime

Posted by David Emeron on

Doth, sylphidine, my poet walk the night.
Her nature, sybaritic; every wish
As spritely, and as sensuous a whim,
That, sibilant, depriveth of her sight;

The magic of her grace, her subtle flight.
Of flowery gifts, she writeth, she hath won;
Of sunsets, singeth she, luxuriant, warm;
And downy-cool, her mountaintops of white.

We shall, as loveth she, so never love;
Nor built we paradise, as hath she done.
Doth sleep our kingdom not upon the clouds,
Nor fortress, on such billows, dream above.
So vanquished she, as many, though but one;
She triumphed clear; yet had we only shrouds.

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Sonnet: Stardate – 50419.1…

Posted by David Emeron on

My love has wings–slender, feathered things–
With grace in upswept curve and tapered tip,
My love would soar–swiftly to adore–
So twisting ever toward, and graceful skip.

So dances she–round and round to be–
Enrapt to bring us care, to bind us kept,
My love should know–you, my love, bestow–
Your Own, as did He dance and graceful stepped.

For now as wed… They–Our Love has said–
Would bear us swiftly hence as spectral ships;
So lovely They–So lighted, Their display–
That would illuminate our Earthly trips.

And lovely see–you and I–as We…
Take flight, as when I tasted first your lips.

  • once more for Gene.

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Sonnet II: At Rest

Posted by David Emeron on

At last, the dawn, in perfect form, I see
So formed, a positive reality.
Its purple state, its perfect choir, unveil
To shine, inspiringly, its song on me.

With form, and measure never void, it brings
A subtle mastery of the world it sings.
Without abash, I hear it tell a tale
Of majesty, and many more such things

Which burn with glory’s power, as they shine
Upon this shadow dappled world of mine.
My dreams are splendour, as they dance–prevail
With measure, and with form, and perfect line!

And dance I shall, as light–as mirrors bright
Reflect–avails, ’til dark, ’til death, ’til night!

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

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