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.

As the Rooster Crows

As the rooster crows
the hidden sun shines behind murky grey clouds

But the air is not murky
as tepid drops of rain fall and gather like pools of light on pink pedals and green leaves of oak
soaked right in an early summer festival of storms

I watched as they rolled in quietly then came bursting in loud and quick as foxes

Then leaving in a rumble rumble want of repetition 

The morning does crave the rooster’s crow
as pale silence beyond rainfall waits for its decision to bring about inference of breath 

A gentle stirring of the day
Some work, some play
And a space to curl up and ponder 
Set forth creative endeavors

Basking walking smiling dreaming
As the rooster crows.

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A Place to Make a Fire

Among your heart’s desire
be there space for which to retire

Not in suffering resolution
but in courageous absolution

Contentment here as well as there
but something amiss in our breath’s air

And in between all feelings of woe
a dormant shimmering glimmer of hope

Destiny’s will come forth and received
a space to reshape the before besieged

Through clouds of storm and hurricane
among sorrow, forgiveness, exaltation, pain

Within your soul amid the muck and the mire
wholly a place to make a fire.

 

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It Has Come to My Attention

It has come to my attention
though arduous in its reasoning of how

There is room for things slunk away
in the corner of heart’s bough

that in this instance a sprouted seed
green with fury of survival

pushed away dirt and muck and haste
against the push and pull of rivals

I do not know when or how
the why I do however know

There is room here as there’s always been
for love’s arms to embrace
to free and grow

Yet with apprehension this ardor onerous
A virtue like truth to see

Patience in heart and mind and soul
Love in earnest be.

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The Fallen Leaves (the passing of time)

Trudging knee-high in leaves
discarded shelter now food for soil

The passing of time long arduous
and fleeting all at once

We wish for high winds
to carry all away

And when they do come
blow our hearts out of our chests

Maddening deafness except
the blind chatter of our minds

and the crunch swish crunch
of fallen foliage at our feet

Trek on still
with our eyes set forward

Lest we cackle like mad men
in the unforgiving forest of
despondency.

fallen-leaves-wallpaper-3

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A Kind of Kindling

All relationships need kindling

It’s too easy to become wrapped up
in the monotony of daily life
and think things will fix themselves
with the drying of the plastic dishes on the counter

But sometimes gotta get out of the kitchen
go to a place where there are no dishes to wash
no routines to keep
a different perspective and air to breathe

We played in the field after dinner
and it was not planned
I saw you smile in the dunes
and make jokes while pedaling the surrey

It wasn’t you and I arguing
or me wishing you were 8 again

We were just ourselves
and there was no animosity
or harsh words or sadness

There are new memories on the beach now
a twinkle in my eye when I look southward
and see the city where we spent a weekend

A much-needed weekend
spontaneous and free

The you and me that always has been
and hopefully always will be.

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A Bird Call, A Meditation Song

A bird call
a meditation song
words spoken to the sea

spinning in the high winter’s sky
where the pelicans fly
and the hawk and dove and osprey

singing their tune
which I cannot translate
yet reminding me to breathe and let be

Uttered forth among ocean waves
these affirmations floating to you
and cascading back to me.

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Bathing In

I need to bathe in the music of the soul

That which is beautiful and free
without sadness

I don’t want to bathe in the bloated belly
of discontentment and sorrow
and hopelessness

There is a light out there
that shines brighter than any
chasm is dark

And it doesn’t blind
but leads and fulfills and carries
when the void does come

Bathe with me in this

Engulf in the sweet luminous sound
of all that is good in this world.

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A Rare Cold Day

It’s a rare cold day here
one meant for staying close in
and keeping the biting breeze out
Or perhaps to face the bite
let it rattle your bones for a bit
then come inside and take a warm sip

There’s tea on the stove
coffee in the carafe
Sun is gleaming on the chilly
palm fronds outside
But my couch is empty
too many cups in the cupboard

January can be an icy stare
smoke-filled rooms with nowhere
to breathe
Resolutions already falling away
A need for connection
but the line is dead

Suit up and carry on
it’s just one more day
one rare cold day
But with the birds flight
south-wind, still
a struggle to let go within.

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The Summer of 12

Soaked in cold spring water
engulfed in it
I want to paddle against the current again

River rocks
you helped me walk over their slippery path

A mountain’s bald peak
grass as soft as cotton
No stress there

Can we go back
on days like these
where life has sucked out
all the marrow of zen
and time is on fast-forward

The summer of 12
the best in my life

You 12, me 42
But among those swaying pines
and silly laughter
I was the same as you

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December Fall

The hollow acorns spill like fat hail onto the clay
I wonder if the squirrels had their party
When night time comes and silent calmness still
we hear the gunshot pop of the mighty oak seeds
fall onto rooftops and roll to their woody graves

Aye the hibiscus still flitting about
although her petals dry and withered
Sweet smells of night-blooming jasmine
permeate the nostrils instead
as we waft by their perfumed doorway

Dawn’s cloudy turns to sunset’s muted glow
and all between is mix of haze and bright
cool and warm and wishing for snow
but only in dreams does the icy world flow
for here we have wind and sun and fallen acorn hull.

shumard-oak-tree-acorns

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