Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
One Hundred and Fifty-Five Sonnets - 22. unruffled by any hand
.
Sonnet No. 43
For you, all my thinking seeks out a rhyme;
For you my heart beats in pentameter,
And for this I may want only time
To say I'm more than a poetaster.[1]
But like the mark of infinity though,
The terms go round and round without decrease,
Building greater density and then so,
Like light from an atom my soul release.
Your fuel for my flame will never go out,
Feeding my hope as a sacred motet,
Although for just the right word I cast about,
You'll always be there to call me your poet.
So in words I may seek the rhythm and rhyme,
And joy that they are yours, and that you are mine.
Sonnet No. 44
Where you are staying, fountains rush and reel,
Shards of water fill rainbows in the air,
And as you stand and watch, freshness you feel –
On your body – but inside, you despair.
The water is like the attitude
You show the outside world: sharp and pert,
But as your bubbles fall in multitude,
That evanescence only bares your hurt.
But within our inner life, you and I
Retain the deep stillness like a mirror
Where one can recognize his own sigh
Reflected in the smile he holds dear.
Turbid the outer world and its demand;
But deep within, unruffled by any hand.
[1] Pronounced: po-e-Tays-ter
_
- 6
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Recommended Comments
Chapter Comments
-
Newsletter
Sign Up and get an occasional Newsletter. Fill out your profile with favorite genres and say yes to genre news to get the monthly update for your favorite genres.