Shall not be love that
Doth wherewith I now sustain?
And this, forever.
Tag Archives: Poem
Sonnet II: At Rest
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:
Intro 2: Diametric
This is the opposite number,
Perhaps even diametrically opposed; a polar opposite
But still consistent in form.
Sonnet I: Restless
So languish thee, with veiled eye, thou poet,
When thou knowest breaking is the dawn;
For when thou wakest then, thy quill is still;
Though sleep, though rest is done, thy dream is gone.
And languish thee, at dawn’s decry, thou poet
Though thy dream escapeth through the morn;
At rest, and restlessness, this day thou lay
With each forgotten dream of thine unborn.
Then languish thee, though bright the sky, thou poet
Uninspired, helpless at midday,
Though sun with beauty bathes–at best a jest,
Its rays inspire golden fields of hay.
Now languish poet, day is not yet done;
Yet soon ’tis afternoon–the sun… has won.
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:
Intro 1: Methods
Withall, I’ve discovered methods exist
Wherein I may always write my fill,
Yet frustration takes me still.
Sonnet IV: Watchers
Then in beauty and truth, the believers,
Lo!… Shall behold as you conjurers burn.
Though our innocence used as a weakness,
Still… in the end it has helped us prevail;
Although twisted to apathy’s bleakness,
‘Til… we invited your jealous betrayal.
But the Knights of the Copybook Headings
Show… that our apathy caused you to win;
We will never forget that beheadings,
Though… were the wages of this kind of sin.
That you dogs had your day, none may qualm. It’s
Sure… but they’ve chased you back into the mire;
So, return to your pestilent vomit,
Or… we will cast you back into the fire.
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:
Intro 4: Hope
I wanted to see it:
It was what I desired to become
Shall I Dare Hope that…
David Emeron: Sonnets 