Sonnet II: By My Love’s Sweet Words

By any song, in night, that dost thou sing,
If with thy lips shalt sing, my dearest one;
Or make to sing my soul, thy touch doth bring;
Or strong thine arms surroundeth, sing my heart.

And when doth sing thy smile, to heal, to rest;
And sing to fret the tyme away, undone
By song; yet still the finer am I blest
By music, by thy words, and by thine art.

But only thus, thy song shouldst bid me sleep–
Thy song, my shelter, sweep away the sun,
I beg of thee thy promised song, and weep
That shouldst thou hold mee fast, and ne’r us part

Until thy quiet fight–when hast thou won–
Requite the day, that thou expressed:  Depart!

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

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Intro 2: My Words, Her Words

By my love’s sweet words
Am I, once again, inspired.
She bringeth magic!

“By any song thou dost sing, my dearest one.
To heal, to rest, or to fret the tyme away
Only thus, that thou shouldst hold fast
And defy the daylight.”

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Sonnet V: The Wraith who Played

Long thence I, of thy miracle, so learned:
This, seeming to perfection, thou didst play;
Such beauty rare, I heard of this, thy bow,
That thou, such Earthly-wrought, couldst make Divine.

Such beauty, then too beautiful, were spurned;
For seeming not of Earth, thy beauty lay;
So rarely this, some Earthly ear should know,
This Heaven-wrought Divinity of thine.

To hear these rise from Earth to skies I’ve yearned;
Thy notes of such beatitude convey;
That soar and lift mee ’round where next they goe;
And to the stars that make, to thee, their shrine.

To paradise returned, I beg thee stay;
This music overflow; thy soul, to mine.

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

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sonnet II: I Dare

May poetess I woo thy spirit hence?
For, surely am I starving of thy words;
Or in the lack this treading represents;
Mine inspiration drowning out by thirds.

I prithee hope thy veils might be taught
If capable a student, I might thence
Command or coax the layers thou hast wrought;
And offer up the same in my defence.

Should then I hope, with verse, or even song,
To woo thy spirit hence? For once I fought
Not shame, nor thine offence; wouldst think me wrong,
Though flesh nor soul, but wordly spirit sought?

Might then my song thy wordly spirit move?
If worthy I, thy lifelong student prove.

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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