Sonnet III: Where I Rest

So quiet thou beside me; so austere
Dost thou confide thee, silently to sleep.
Angelic thou, delightful; though as clear
Dost thou alight believe thou safe to keep…

Thee well protected, do I; and so sweet
Thy dreaming true; mine angel wouldst appear.
And though thou art about me; so discrete
And so devoutly, shall I hold thee near…

And dearly do I wrap thee, my surround
I would enrapt, be to mine own replete.
Delight at once to hold thee and abound
That once untold, rejoice for thee complete…

And wound about thee tightly; and so deep,
Profound, and knightly… love thee; yet I weep….

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

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Sonnet II: Sleep and Death

And yet, thou, quiet at my side, asleep
Hast thus me graced.  Thine own sweet breath,
Thy fairest face so still, but not as death,
As once I thought the only link to keep

Us ever joined would be.   So dark, so deep
Would be our misery; our fate, beneath
A cruel, unblinking sky, would us bequeath,
Or God should grace us, but to weep;

For dreams forsaken, squandered; and to those
From which we shrank, unbidden, with resolve,
With fear, or anger; yet our lives revolve
Around the one, and only one, we chose.

Though only death was certain, dearest wife,
‘Tis better still that it began with life.

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

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Sonnet: The Hand of my Beloved

Thy hand hath stopped my fall and lifted me
To quell my tears, and cool my fervid cheeks;
Withal thy power hast thou known its plea:
To grant my heart this respite that it seeks.

Tomorrow, shall I write for thee, although
The Gods are neither fooled nor do they sleep,
But smile upon thee; surely do They know
I sing with joy their deeds an ne’er I weep.

But sweetly given me hast thou my voice,
And moved my spirit; for my hand is thine
To take thy gifted rest; though fear my choice:
That rest will fall to apathy’s decline.

Yet might for me despair make worse my plight;
Tomorrow, with thy gifts, for thee I write.

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Intro: Here

i

All your spirits are low
and the tears are hot
on your checks

then I would do anything
in my power
to give you peace.

ij

If I could write today
if I could fool the Gods
as they sleep

into thinking that your voice
speaks through my hand
for one brief moment

to give you rest
to buy you time
then I would write today.

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Sonnet II: Long Foretold

But once, I watched thee once, from far away,
In hopes, imagined once, to earn thy rest,
While daring not to dare this sweet display
Were all for mee–that dare I be so blest–
That bid thou might, and bid me soon, this day,
Thy song, to comfort bid, thou once professed.

To hour, and blesséd hour, to lay in sleep,
But soft, in soft congeniality;
To fade, this dolour fadeth by the hour;
And touch, so light thy touch, upon mee keep.
So round, thy lighted circle, ’round us be
Reborn, so safe reborn, within thy bower.

And would I hold thee safe, and would thee well;
As children, long ago, would long foretell.

  • I answer she,
    who hath for me
    this place forever kept.

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

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Intro 2: My Dearest Love doth Answer Mee

To you I seem to sleep
But to me I am but resting as I await your slightest desire
That I might do you ease.
That you might call my name and bid me sing to you
To wile the long hours
In soft congeniality
And await the passing of all pain and dolour.
That we
Touching fingertip to fingertip
Might light a magic circle around us
And snug within it’s safe enclosure
Will finally sleep secure from all fear
Just as we did as children.