Sonnet V: All About Me

Again, doth stir in pretty slumber so,
But slight, her waking; dreameth then of he
Whose bearing and whose presence seemed unique.
And he, of small advantage, seemed as wise;

Yet hardly did aware, he seem, nor know;
Was more, that either view, than blind decree.
About him still, so more than just mystique;
Yet not conceit, as others she’d surmise.

And of his expertise, might nothing show;
Unless such confidence she chanced to see.
And might she little know of such technique,
Unless through conversation might surprise.

Though not precisely modest, I’d agree,
My love wouldst speak my greatness (most unwise!)

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

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Sonnet IV: Her Remembrance of My Music

From out his music here doth ’round me spin
A fabric, quickly woven, as of light,
From golden thread of gossamer, so fine,
This shield around me now; and I inside.

And here! I see the hues of light within,
That dance about me, furious in flight;
And here! I see his music tryst and twine
And mimic and encircle and collide.

His song that maketh touch and sight therein
And sound, and taste, and even scent, unite;
Where memory of past and future, mine,
Shall join, and like a prism, subdivide.

So why reach out when all within is right?
For here, confined, doth all my soul reside!

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

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Intro 4: How I Play

Regarding my music,
My sweetheart wrote me a poem;
And so beautiful.

I fear it was lost,
forever lost or taken;
lost to both of us.

I recall some lines;
I remember its structure;
But not perfectly.

And I very well
recall how it made me feel,
long ago, in spring.

So I give my love
All that I now remember,
Within this sonnet:

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Sonnet III: Her Praise

Her heart, so prayeth she, be still, this dream,
Wherein such favour, she recalleth, find;
Such things so little are, as may surprise:
So often unexpected, his attire;

In candlelight, he doth angelic seem
To glow, as though with Heaven’s light combined;
So oft remembered, sherry coloured eyes,
To her, do seem to light the world entire;

And dreameth of his words with such esteem,
So thrilling, when of heart, or though of mind;
Then beautiful his music, as so wise
She thought his words, as ever both inspire.

Supreme, thy praise doth find me; and so kind,
I blush to prize, my love–my heart’s desire.

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

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Sonnet I: His Favour

At rest she lieth down within her bed,
Doth close long lidded eyes, though not to sleep
In her repose for soft, round limbs to rest;
And then, in longing yet, her thoughts toward him:

Of words so closely shared, or left unsaid;
Such secrets, told or not, as cause to weep;
With his remembrance tight against her prest,
Though now, so tattered, once yet thought a whim,

Her tears to calm, his favour held instead,
That holdeth now her heart in safety’s keep,
To lull, so sweet her countenance, to rest–
Then close her eyes again, as night grew dim.

And once we wed, doth dream my love now deep,
As blest, our lives entwined, as any hymn.

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

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