Tag Archives: Sonnet

Sonnet: The Evolution Of…

Posted by David Emeron on

Things in life evolve. I, now uncaught on
Detail, resolve that haiku, when planned more
Strictly, will not break a single thought on
Separate lines. On the other hand, for

Sonnets, great shrines more strict, more pursuing
Sound; the stricture of both could recombine
With pressure when mixed together. Doing
Round numbers of haiku, would misalign

Within a sonnet. It makes me sigh, too;
For, on my honour, I’d cry if that myth
Were true. Instead, there must be eight haiku
To see it through; and then I combat with

Four pale sounds. And its sextet, for a
Tail, sports “etcetera, etcetera.”

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Sonnet IV: Angelic

Posted by David Emeron on

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:

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Sonnet III: Where I Rest

Posted by David Emeron on

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

Posted by David Emeron on

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 I: No More

Posted by David Emeron on

No touch, no sleep, no rest, no love like mine
For thee, shall ere console me in my place
Of rest.  No more shall any weight of thine
My breast console.  No more, thy fairest face,

Within my whole creation be contained.
No more shall I awaken, feel my heart
And thine, and should not feel that there be twain.
Not rhythm, nor our beings, be made to part.

No more shall flesh be moved nor move mine own
By neither wish, nor thought, nor even touch,
To such a fervent height as we have known–
As only I and thou have felt this much.

Must I, in perpetuity, endure
No more, no more, no more, no more… no more….

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

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Sonnet VII: Lotus

Posted by David Emeron on

I lid mine eyes, yet not in sleep, but wake;
Not hid to prize the darkness, nor to see;
Nor magnify some other sense; nor be
Bereft of beauty; nor once more forsake

The heft of duty, as a way to break
The thrall of such cacophonous debris.
Nor shall so thin a veil set me free
From youthful ties, nor hail its mistake,

Nor truth, nor lies, but merely grant repose;
Which waking purpose, clearly, I’m inclined
To take, whenever I may know such throws
Of agony or bliss. And when I find
Such irony as this, I then expose
Myself, to all the wealth, in all my mind.

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

Sonnet VI: Violets

Posted by David Emeron on

‘Til noon, before these Violets lovely stir
With bloom that splendour morning’s promised awe;
Too soon, I made my contract, drunk on her
Perfume, and swore this compact as my law;

And strewn for all, to savour all the more,
Presume this Moonlight-sweet enthralment were
Immune to circumstance; that here, before
The gloom,  ill-fortune shan’t to these occur.

From Moon unto Aspasia, then, I go,
Subsumed by Columbine ’til Dawn’s deplore,
Marooned and Wild; to Corsican I know,
Entombed this fivefold Covenant I swore;

And prune such flaws, assuming naught will show;
Festooned and drawn: my doom from long ago.

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