Could you see in Spring
what I have seen in Summer,
you might have chosen
fulfilment in life
in Fall to better yourself.
And then, looking back,
you might even see
how desolate in Winter
your life might have been,
if you had never
made that fateful decision
on one Spring morning.
When hast thou seen, as meant for only thee,
Such eyes as widen gaily at thy sight?
And at thy voice a face that ever bright
Hath lit as though thy soul hath set it free.
And hast thou heard a voice so peacefully
Conformed, as though it found a place to light
As warmly and as permanently might
A thing as claimed its perfect place so be?
Or hast thou not this wonder ever seen?
And hast thou not this perfect moment felt?
Nor felt thine own eyes widen, as for thee
Delighted by thine own, that face hath been?
Hast not thou love, as hath my love for mee?
Hast not thine heart within perfection dwelt?
I’d write about love
I could write all day and night
The words would pour out
But I think it would
because of my own true love
be all too easy
I think I could write
Thrice as I have written once
Time would almost stop
So like an angel dost thou, by me, sleep;
So peaceful dost thou dream and give me dreams;
So like a child do I sleep. It seems
I dream anew thy gifted dreams, and keep
Mine own in peace, and never do I weep;
For I am safe, as safety thine redeems;
For I, as thou, am safe from all extremes;
For I may rest, as thou–may rest as deep.
An I awake, when deepest sleep is done,
Shall all thy peace remain within; and yet
Such peace, as I describe, cannot be won,
Without the price of love, I shan’t forget;
And when our dreams, as once again are spun
No pleasure as we dream shall go unmet.
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:
And it creates in me
Such dreams
That I rest so completely
O Mistress of the Light, why burn thine eyes
So bright? What mystery dost thou reveal;
What stranger thee, thine eye to me conceal
Within thy night, thine opalescent skies?
O Child of the Earth, Who guards so fine
Thy berth? Who hath consoled thine eyes of pain;
And giv’st thee hold, to lands controlled? Explain
What purpose gives’ thee worth to thus enshrine.
O Mistress of the Dark, When shalt thou next
Embark? Dost one thou know as darker still;
So dark as goe the depths below? But thrill
Such depths, as stark, Cimmerian, as vexed?
As vexed, but thrilling still, thou next enshrine;
Thine eyes reveal concealing skies so fine.
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:
Regard herein a little mystery
That maketh such an interest to see
Within resulting questions some degree.
David Emeron: Sonnets 