Fame, for good or ill
May come unbidden to thee,
But thou wish it not.
Tag Archives: Poem
Intro 5: She Exists
Such things are easy
First, to conceptualise–
Harder to live them.
Sonnet III: Take Thy Care
Above all, tend thy body, treat not cavalier
The vessel of thy mind and soul; for where
Thy foolishness, ephemera revere,
So ever, doth for each, the other care.
What providence might I impart of this!?
What bounty bring, avoiding such despair.
If not such caution, would I be remiss?
This wisdom, give I thee, beyond compare.
I yearn to tell the ease thou shouldst have won;
Or how simplicity wouldst bring thee bliss;
And wish thy time for these could be outdone–
Not lateness now these choosings reminisce.
Though ne’er may be these hands of time outrun;
So could thine ease much sooner have begun.
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:
Intro 3: Hindsight Observed
So simple are such
As would, effortless, give us
All our years; and more.
Sonnet II: The Most Important Thing
That art thou most of consequence to me–
Thy tender age doth all to me pertain–
What may I tell, that wouldst thou not foresee;
And warn of that from which thou shouldst abstain?
Fear not, shouldst thou, pursuit of all thine aims;
For rest shalt thou enough to persevere.
Nor fear the end of that which life proclaims;
For shalt thou cease, one day, to live in fear.
And never, thy demeanour, show as meek;
For this thine own frustration will prolong.
Nor fail to strive, believing thou art weak;
For shall, one day, travail make thee strong.
And know, thou shouldst, one truth, all else above:
With all thy strength, pursue thy dearest love.
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:
Intro 2: Message in a Bottle
If only I could
In this bottle fourteen lines,
Send away to thee;
To be understood,
What words, within these confines,
Only, should they be?
Sonnet I: Thou Wilt
Wilt thou again experience this vain,
Delectable, self-referential ache–
This self-indulgence once again allow?
To thine shalt thou thy paradox awake
From sleep when hast thou found and felt this pain?
What timely melody, or importune,
Might interruption beg thee disavow?
But wake! Shout thy day! Though thy Words impugn
Themselves when once They leave thy lips; profane
Shall They be made by whips thou canst not quell;
The base shall scourge profane, an They endow
Them with thy Pearls, when swine, as swine, retell.
Though long remains the day thy Words to fade,
Sleep now, brief vigilance, not yet unmade.
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:
David Emeron: Sonnets 