Crowns-of-Sonnets

I. When beauty fills my eyes and sets afire My world with brilliance I never knew, I need not ask, I've no need to inquire Whose hand it was that moved out tried and true. Though once you counseled me within my mind And guided me through promises unseen, Yet now you are the sight for which I pined In days that cycled green to gold to green. And now that I have seen I must confess That though I recognize your radiant form, There's so much more that I could never guess Had I not seen, reached out, and felt your warmth. And so I learn the gift we share is such: This heart that yearned for years to reach and touch. II. This heart that yearned

6-2-16 When I’m in doubt as to whether I’m loved, When shadows are o’er shadowing my soul. It’s then I cast my eyes up, right above, I find in you a peace that makes me whole. When without fortune or when I’m disgraced, When without favour in the eyes of man, When I’m in doubt, mind in a petty place; And now I’m forced to make a change of plan, It’s then I lift my eyes up to your throne Realising that I need to trust in you. And knowing that I’m not act’lly alone Brings forth from me a joyful, little mew. For this is how you showed your love for me; While I still sinned you died to

Rainis Sonnet Crown 17-01-16 1) How often do I lie and think of you While tears are falling softly from my eyes? You turned my very marrow into glue Right from the day we bid each other ‘bye’. I’m a paper-plate lion without a mane And you’re the one beneath my ‘bridge of sighs’. I once was wild, but since you died I’ve tamed; And all that I’ve done since you left is cry, Forever full of tears and asking ‘why’. ***** 2) Forever full of tears and asking ‘why Did you have to leave?’ My baby boy Who went so long without a name to cry. I wonder now whether you bring God j

If you who are the emptiness of space, And galaxies are all yours to command, And all there is of love is in your face, And grace flows down to us out of your hand, Then we are blessed beyond what we have earned, And cannot speak the depth of what we feel. We must content ourselves with chaos spurned While all the wounds of death within us heal. You are the God whose love defeated Hell, And fought for those who spurned you without cause, And yet beyond the universe you dwell, And set in motion love and life and laws. Oh God, forever glorified above, The object and the author of my love. If you, who are the emptiness of space Fill all that i

The sound of catamarans upon the foam, the march of cavalry and weary knights who lay their bodies down are coming home to linens drying like a hundred kites; if not for love, what force are sword and chain that they may honor empires with their call, if not for me, they all have died in vain and made of Troy the laughingstock for all. Indeed, your chamois shirts and littered socks, the tender cartilage of tambourines, unfinished wine, and little jew'llery box, and dual hemispheres of nectarines— belong to me alone in my design: the air you breathe, your everything, is mine.

I. What deep-set dreams we keep, lest others pry - As if to say that silence guards them best, And keeps them most alive - there in my breast, In silence born, and therein left to lie; But not unknown, not they - for I had slept As men and gods alike did haply dream, And dreaming, knew of all my deepest dreams Ere I. Thus, any hopes I hereby dress - Desires bespoke, if not, in truth, confessed - Shall mark me as a puppet born and bought To shoulder wishes men themselves forgot, Not knowing which are more and which are less My own. A bastion, then, of debts and dues - As others dreamt, I dream - and dreaming, lose. II. As others dreamt, I dre

He loves me not, he says with blushing cheek. He'd rather die a fiery death than kiss A girl with zero sex appeal, a geek (he says it twice for extra emphasis). So why the constant stares? I ask. He lies. He hates the sight of me, he quickly shouts – Without the scorn his panicked oath implies. The dissonance contributes to my doubts. Alone one day, he smiles at me; I gasp. A joke? A lapse of judgment? Or perhaps A glimpse of truth at last within my grasp! I kiss his cheek and watch his walls collapse. A victory for me, like striking gold. For him, a death by kisses hot and cold.

His voice enveloped me, and I became Myself again--I heard it in the song: A mordent on a note he held too long; A stutter in his voice. I heard my name In these and felt a happiness the same As when I saw him first. Oh, I had longed To hear him sing again, but this last song-- It was so beautiful. And it remains The best of human works, though none shall hear Its sorrowed notes; the lyre's meand'ring tune Through vast arpeggios and Death's expanse Except the dead. It will not disappear 'Till all the world's destroyed, and hell's exhumed-- Such music must be worth a backwards glance.

let us recall  the best effects of style when those who listen know how best to hear and do not injure those who hold most dear the hidden blessings of the final mile rather they wish the urgent to beguile expecting that the best might engineer sounds that will please the most discerning ear and lead once drooping eyes to shine and smile the age of wonder has no fixed return but comes upon us as we seem to find not a changed world but a remarked abode the home that we have loved for which we yearn that seemed so hidden for time out of mind appear before us as we climb the road