Tag Archives: Poem

Sonnet VI: Nurtured Nature

Posted by David Emeron on

I lay in thought, while others raced ahead.
Until I understood what friendship was.
I chose to look, while others leapt  instead,
And learned what loving is, and what it does.

I searched inside, while many never could,
To troll the depths and nature of desire,
Though scorned, I searched until I understood
The metal that would fealty require.

I learned; and kept  my friendship, burning love,
And deep desire, gilt like royalty;
For now, I knew the worth and nature of
Such strong emotions wrapped in loyalty:

So nurtured, close together, as they grew,
Until the day I gave them all to you.

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

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Sonnet V: Bad Times

Posted by David Emeron on

Love, have I hurt you, yet you love me still;
When I am bitter; still you understand;
You knew I was alone, and took my hand;
And knew I loved you as I always will.

Love me, as I love you, though you’ve hurt me;
So fine you are, how could I but forgive;
The girl whose magic taught a boy to live;
The woman who would teach a man to see.

We never let our circumstance prevail;
And ever after felt our bold belief;
What power, this, may triumph over grief;
And leaves but little meaningless travail.

Not fire for strength, to grist the mill, nor more
To climb–No hill–but bad times to ignore.

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

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Alone | RL King:A Written World

Posted by David Emeron on

I so remember writing such things as this below:

I have walked, Alone
Most often, when I needed someone most
I have pushed and pulled
Don’t think I do not know, Alone
This variety of Alone
Has a different torment
For I will never find a partner for this Alone
There is not that hope
Not that imagined dream
The hand has been dealt
And it has a bitterness
It has a solitude indescribable
To teach spirituality, Alone
Drive across snow covered hiway, Alone
To sit, and bear the burden of all I am to teach them, Alone
A conscience weighed with never being good enough, Alone
To return and speak to God, Alone
Wonder if he hears me, Alone
Do not speak to me of, Alone
That, is a lifetime for me
A lifetime,
Of Alone.

via Alone | RL King:A Written World.

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Sonnet IV: Sandcastles

Posted by David Emeron on

Is there a way that might I ache yet more?
For, missing thee is more than can I stand;
Yet also, do I ache by my own hand
For fearing action, boyish on that score,

That would us bring together all the more.
How pure would be our life were I a man?
If rather built, a castle than of sand,
I could, a dream produce in granite, or

At least, could give some substance to our life,
Which long we spun with threads of gossamer.
Remote, has been our touch–not man, nor wife,
Could we, ourselves, have truly called, for fear
Of facing a reality too sad,
Dispersing but what little web we had.

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

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