Category Archives: Sunday Night Sonnet

I’ve been writing poetry since I was near about ten. Every Sunday evening I will post a poem, either current or from the vault. I hope you enjoy and can relate in your own way.

December 2, 2013 · 2:29 am

One of Passion

Come, oh one of passion
of deep, mindful feeling
of trust and kindness
cleanliness and beauty
Wrap your arms around me
embrace me
relieve me
from the harsh chains which bind me
unto the darkness of the world of hate
Love me forever
Give me the feeling
of a million petals floating in a 
clear blue sea
I long for you like life longs
for light
Too faraway are you oh one of passion
And I am not at ease until you are seen
within my distance.

                   --December 31, 1989

— To think I had such aching desire in my little high school freshman body.
The boy I wrote this for has flourished into a successful man yet still embodies those gifts and virtues included in the poem written so many years ago.
I guess you are never too young for yearning. And you are never too old, either.

Moor

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November 25, 2013 · 4:00 am

The Golden Teacup

The golden teacup sat tall and proud
 shing shing clop, shing shing clop
upon a stump in the green, grassy wood
 shing shing clop, shing shing clop.

Soon came a boy of seventeen,
 his feet so tired of walking the mile.
He noticed this lonely cup of gold
 and upon his face came a smile.

"I'll take this unclaimed teacup," he thought
 "and give it to my true love, Meliss.
She'll love me forever and a day
 if she receives a gift like this."

But as soon as he touched the proud teacup
 it spoke many a word so true.
"I do not think I'd do
 such a thing if I were you."

"You see, I am here for the animals;
 from me it is where they drink.
Whosoever I shall fall into the hands of
 will no longer be able to think."

But the boy of seventeen did not believe
 that such a thing could occur.
So he took the teacup anyway,
 that he may give it to her.

Along the wood he did go
 with the teacup in his hand.
He felt he was the best lover
 ever there was in the land.

And when the young Meliss received
 the teacup tall and proud,
she kept it by her bed for days
 and often sang out loud.

But like the golden teacup
 to the boy of seventeen said,
when he came back to visit his Meliss
 he found the poor girl dead.

The golden teacup sat tall and proud
 shing shing clop, shing shing clop
upon a stump in the green, grassy wood
 shing shing clop, shing shing clop.

Teacup

—Written way back in high school. Probably for an English assignment.
I always liked it. Just read it to my son. He didn’t.

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November 18, 2013 · 2:50 am

In a Crowded Room

In a crowded room
I can pick you out
because those eyes came from me
and see the things I did years ago
towering adults
stuffed animals on low shelves
the smallest, most chokeable object on the kitchen floor
Only it's decades later
and now I'm the mother
But I feel like a child most days
Maybe that's why sometimes it's easy
for me to crawl around the floor and chase you
I feel my heart flutter
when you smile 
when you squeal
And when you throw your strong but
tiny arms around me
I know I could never be happier
So hold on just a little longer
Don't let go
Don't grow too fast
I don't want to lose you
in a crowded room.

— Written for my son when he was just a baby. I told him I loved him shortly after he was born. I wanted him (and me) to know I meant it. Of all who I’ve loved and continue to love, there is no one who has captured my heart like him. And there is no one who has taught me unconditional love like him. There might have been times I didn’t like him, but I’ve always loved him. Retrieved from the archives in response to The Daily prompt: Love to Love You

Ian baby

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November 11, 2013 · 2:56 am

Standing on the Edge of a Dream

sunset

Standing on the edge of a dream
with my eyes closed
and I see myself
spinning in the summer wind
Everything I've ever seen
and everyone I've ever known
are all trapped in a photograph
like they will never be again
Laughter and kisses of yesterday
frozen forever
Melt my tomorrow
awaken me to my happy eternity

–Written during one of my darkest hours, or so it seemed at the time. I was alone, working three jobs, and suffering PMS and depression.
I was consumed with myself and the past. Poetry always helped me trudge through.
Today I read about a fellow blogger’s horrific loss and this reminded me of him.
Now this is his suffering. My heart goes out to you.

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November 3, 2013 · 9:00 am

When You Were Here

Palm Tree SwayingWhen you were here my love
the sun rose above casting shadows
on only those places that needed shade
The birds came out of their hiding places 
to call their song of happiness
When you were here my love
there was more time in the hour
but the hour gone quickly
Trees swayed and grass as green as the Norfolk pine 
Even road signs blasted their saturation more vividly
When you were here my love
the streets were filled with your voice
and the neighbors lingered longer to hear it.

–Originally written for a friend who left a mark and memory upon my soul and surroundings. Also represents to all of us those other friends, lovers, and brothers who’ve come into view, stayed for the snapshot, and left while the lens was still warm. Who do you have in mind?

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October 29, 2013 · 1:29 am

Brown (Ode to Autumn)

Fall Leaves         
the color brown falls from the sky 
in passive splashes of fresh beauty
in leaves and kisses 
and soil and freckles
the color brown is about
as jack-o-lanterns smile with its flame
the flame a color of brown
brown the flame of fall

Fall Freckles

Fall Chair

Jack-o-lanterns

Fall Backyard

–Written years ago as an ode to Autumn. I’ve always had a love affair with the season– through the pen, the lens, the skin, and the scent of a bonfire and decaying leaves. Now I have to travel several hundred miles north to feel its arms around me for a brief moment. What do you love about Fall?

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October 14, 2013 · 11:25 am

Ode to Brother

Green grasses of summer
forever kept in memory
Days of old
when you and me 
pretended to be on a 
ship in the sea
When did we move
from that place of tranquility
safety
Here's to childhood
Here's to simplicity
Here's to the home
where you and I ran and sang
Here's to the yard
where we swung from the tree
and where kitty was buried
I wish I could look out of my 
window now
and see that yard from
that house
but instead I see asphalt
and you are nowhere around.

Me & Art –Written back in the late ’90’s when I was single and living in an apartment which overlooked a parking lot.

I hadn’t seen my brother a lot then.

Now we live 700 miles apart. He just came for a surprise visit for my 40th birthday.

Best present I ever received.

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October 4, 2013 · 12:00 am

Last Day of 39

My last day being thirty-nine
last day in my thirties
but I don't want to cry
I reflect on a whirl-wind of a life's decade
the birth of my son
the first decade of his life
The friends that have come and gone
through grievances and harsh good-byes
some just seem to float out into the sky
The ones still within grasp
fill the empty gap with ardor and laugh 
All the sunsets of varying hues of orange and pink   
All the food enjoyed and wine to drink
Sometimes a heavy load I carried
sometimes I couldn't bear to step outside
But upon the peak of the mountain
and largely on the way down
a lightness and peacefulness come
and those waiting for me at the bottom
capable of so much love
Could I have ever predicted 
ten years or a lifetime of such
a glorious life 
I look up at the mountain ahead
take a deep breath
and climb
IMG_9501

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