Sonnet # 109

•February 4, 2017 • Leave a Comment

Amorous, treacherous, and fickle to the boot

A mistress like none other, a dame so divine

She hits you in the gut with a force too brute

A steel magnolia with graces too fine

 

Seemingly base, yet kinder to some

With tones and hues so many plus undefined

We hem and haw, lying in wait for her to come

To a point where she seems for what we pined

 

But it’s never to be so, trust you me when I say

Her form is nebulous, her love for you a trance

You buckle down hard, trying to hold her sway

She lures you into the fold of her eternal dance

 

A lingering rhythm is all you have to sing to your heart’s delight

For such is Life indeed, a colossal dusk en route to a little light

 

 

Advertisements

In death, a new beginning he found

•February 1, 2016 • 2 Comments

In death he was so valiant,

In living we do thus nigh

A young boy all of seven

Etched his name in memory so high

***

A glimmer in the shadows for those

Who awaited a supporting hand

He lived so much more than most

As time slipped through like grains of sand

***

An engrossing smile upon his lips

With a twinkle in his mischievous eye

I reminisce as I reign atop my tower of mores

Gazing at the world with a look so wry

***

Is it enough to just live our lives?

Droning on in sameness galore

Or should we be like that dear boy?

Doing some more; oh so much more…

[Dedicated to the very inspirational and endearing story of a little boy we knew, who in his passing away lent life to four strangers.]

Sonnet # 108

•December 24, 2015 • 2 Comments

A veil of dark sheathed the azure

As incandescence shrunk back in despair

For there is a sinister for every bit of pure

Waiting in the shadows with stealth unfair

 

The soldier of starlight fought bravely indeed

Despite the sable that lay heavy on his soul

With courage he thought he could sow in the seed

Of warmth amidst strife, but the assault did take its toll

 

And so he struggled, and did so in vain

His arms a flailing but his head held high

He let go of fondness and with it the pain

Of no more getting to see his lover in pleasure sigh

 

Is this is the end for the purveyors of light?

Will there no longer be a day forever bright?