Sad it went, back then;
I yet could not see His light.
I knew, once I saw.
Tag Archives: Poem
Sonnet I: It Comes
If ever I could spare a minute’s time,
I might enjoy a moment of the day.
A place where I might be forgotten, pray,
That I might run from here, or even climb
A mountain far away. Not Reason, Rhyme
Nor Deities could sway, nor could one pay
The world’s unyielding, universal clay,
That time should not be stolen. Such a crime
Continues on, beholden to no man,
With cruel impunity–continues on
Its prurience, as only Satan can–
And gives the poet grist to mill upon:
To sow, and reap, and dream of sweet release,
And then to sleep, and dream of death, and peace.
This sonnet is part of a short sequence: click here to read it all:
Intro 1: 1984
1984…
A lot had been going on.
What a wild year.
Sonnet VI: Her Call
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:
Intro 6: The Rain
I so love the rain
Especially the monsoons
Which we don’t have here
Sonnet V: Inscribed Elegy
The gentle rain, as gentle notes, inscribe:
A mourning song for images withdrawn;
A pleasing elegy to moments gone;
Or passing fancies, never real. Describe
The rain, and gentle airs will drift to mind:
The dreaming sounds of feeling; river songs,
A never ending symphony, in throngs
Of sound, imbibing, then, of rivers winding
Endlessly about the morning light;
Entwining dewy havens of the heart;
And mountains of a mighty spirit’s height,
Transfixing grateful captives of its art.
How beautiful the rain and music are,
That take us into paradise so far.
- To my friend Jena:
So that you may remember
How I love the rain.
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:
Intro 5: Hard Won
Friendship so hard won
Cannot be easily lost
and may only grow.
David Emeron: Sonnets 