A warning of love
Is a warning of Joy,
A warning of pain;
But a warning, nonetheless.
Tag Archives: Rhyme
Sonnet IV: Paradise
My Sister, I have been to Paradise!
My place in Heaven I have surely touched;
Although I were not calm enough nor wise
That I in that abode might stay, as much
I wished. Mine Heaven was thine Earth, my sweet,
Thine hand, the hand with which sweet Kali held
And breathed life into cold unyielding heat!
That very primal Earth which is thy world.
And so, with Kali’s hand and Helen’s eyes,
Not knowing what a mortal thou hadst touched,
Thou sent thy brother to his paradise;
A heaven which, too beautiful to love,
Would ever be the prize of Earthy trips:
The Heaven of thine hands, and of thy lips.
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:
Intro 4: You My Love
All Heaven:
All Earth–
Is all thee.
Sonnet III: That which Falls
Such tears as I do weep are tears of joy;
But sadness is with joy forever twined.
Such tears as purest crystal so enshrined
Should be–such wonders of extreme employ!
Miraculous; for what would once destroy,
And in the very wonder, this would bind
Us to our fate, our destiny of mind
And body, soul and sinew, girl and boy:
In youth did we enjoin the gentle touch,
The halting kiss; and these were each the more
Exciting for the newness of the act;
And through the years, each sweet caress was much
More fine than was the last; and did restore
My faith in Paradise with thought and fact.
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:
Intro 3 Paradise and Youth
Paradise and Youth,
Are they as one and the same?
Are they opposites?
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
Sonnet IV: Her Dance
Curious, the rain whence cometh down,
She falleth soft in overwhelming drops;
In peace, her quietly pervading sound
Transformeth sun and moon–so uninvited.
Strange, that once her drops, when they invade,
As former they, her forest’s ardour stops;
Though cities in the stead of trees pervade
And held as quiet sway–so unexcited.
Pleasing, how again she doth return
Such streets and buildings, parking lots and shops;
To older days for which they seem to yearn,
So mixt with all her fallen tears–united.
Older she than land they wrest; her crops,
If brick or straw are we–and unrequited.
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all: