A Garden is a Lovesome Thing
A Sonnet
Lingering evening sunlight paints shades
Of purple on the encumbered west wall.
Honeysuckle slumbers as light fades
And dog-tired roses yawn at night fall.
This age-old ritual of petals closing
Heralds the stirring of underfoot things;
Ants patrolling, ladybird’s vain posing,
The hum of midges’ helicopter wings.
Absent-minded snails trail silver kisses,
A drunken and dozy home-coming bee
Dive-bombs a closing flower – and misses.
A thrush laughs in his nest high in a tree.
A garden is a place of great delights,
Even after God turns off the lights.
I'm on a roll, folks - found another one. For your delectation!?
And I wonder why I even try. Grannyjill, I'm awed at your talent, brought low by your spectacular words. Even now I'm letting out the breath I held as I read your poem, even now I'm longing for a garden, a sanctuary, perhaps to be lost in, or perhaps to find another...
Thank you and blessed be.
Reply:I would answer
with a sonnet,
but my form
is not that grand.
Instead I say
I long to live
in this, your
enchanted land.
A place of peace,
and harmony
for a moment will
put me in awe
of the great thrall,
the art of Grannyjill.
Reply:Oh, now this I like very much! Bravo, master of the poem!
Reply:Great job. Sonnets are my absolute favorite thing to write. If you get a chance, read some of John Donne's sonnets, he's incredible. They are religious but regardless, his talent is impeccable.
Your iambic pentameter is spot on:)
Reply:beautiful.
commericial loan
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment