I wish this gentle rain
Would wash away all memory of travail;
Nary sadness would then remain.
Tag Archives: Poetry
Sonnet: No Faith
Can now, I truly see the Holy Ghost?
Believing yet in nothing, not the Son,
And not the Father, nor the fallen one;
With only a desire to play as host
To a belief which, at its very most,
Do I admire to adopt–and shun
All else; for now, I see the truth, and run
To-ward a stark, inevitable, coast;
A coast whose beaches speak a Holy Truth;
Though that alone is not why I so care.
It is a great utility of youth;
Yet pains me that it cannot be a tool
Whose faith will serve me, if indeed ’tis there,
Unless a man accept it, as a rule.
Intro: Faith
it’s funny
how faith
ebbs and flows in me
right now
it is at low tide
God does not exist
nor spirit
nor afterlife
nothing
the only thing
that seems to be
beyond myself
is my love for you,
and your love for me
and that lives
only in you
and in me
We will die
no one will ever know
how irreplaceable it was
it will just be gone.
Sonnet: Hidden Virtue
I thought, one day, I wrote a thing of beauty.
Later on, when taking it in hand,
And sharing it with those, as was my duty;
Neither they, nor I, could understand.
The virtue of a verse is that its meaning,
Often may completely hidden be.
And God, it seems, prefers a lack of gleaning;
With His truth revealed more cryptically.
I thought I could, from Heaven, feel Him looking;
Sung my hymn about it, none could hear;
Though none would deign to join me in my brooking;
Never did a votary appear.
I read, again, my words much later; and
I finally began to understand.
Intro: One Thing
Once I wrote a thing
I thought very beautiful.
I read it later.
Did not understand.
All its meaning was hidden
From me and others.
The virtue of verse
Is that its meaning may be
Completely hidden.
God seems to like it,
Almost always, done that way.
He watches it all
From above. I saw
Also, and sung about it,
And no one heard me,
And no one sang back.
I listened very closely,
And I heard nothing.
I read it again
Much later; and finally,
I understood it.
Sonnet XII: (lyrical couplets)
If swore I, ne’er describe to thee my heart:
How desperately doth it yearn; and start
To quicken at the moment first I see–
And when I hear a voice and know ’tis thee.
Withheld I, how’t doth race when com’st thou near:
And skip when touch my cheek to quell my fear;
To pound its expectation of thy touch,
Doth fierce thou see my body shake as much;
Withheld how at its quiet pace I’d be
Amazed, as beat our hearts in synchrony,
My wonder as their beat would nary stray;
Thence, locked my parchment, quill, and ink, away.
If swore I, ne’er describe my heart to thee,
Then would it’s beating stopped forever be?
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:
Part XII: (lyrical couplets)
This, the most familiar form of rhyme
Is used in song and verse time after time
This the sixth edition came about
The gateway to familiarise throughout
Continue reading
David Emeron: Sonnets 