I caught this morning's morning minion...: Sonnet XIV

Sunday, March 14, 2010

Sonnet XIV

O France! That distant does my lone heart raid –

How far from home my thoughts have been this hour.

A gold Provençal sunset bluing, fade

The tawny southern fields of sun and flower.

I long to walk on grassy Norman heights

Along the ashen lengths of wind-swept sand

Climb high in silent towers of Michael’s might

And raise my heart in domes of king’s command.

Yet here the southern fields break my heart

And there the northern hills bring near

My darkest hurt. I yearn to rise and part

This godless town to find him there --

My God whom I may never know at home

Without whom here I'll always be alone.

7 comments:

Noxalio said...: so very nicely done,
Cassandra!

(these little buggers
are tough to pull off,
at lest for me, they are).

more please ...

noxy.; April 7, 2010 at 9:24 PM
~im just only me~ said...: Thanks Noxy :) I have to force myself to do these sort of exercises sometimes with the hope that it will make me a better poet! I have faith in discipline :D; April 11, 2010 at 6:20 PM
don't be emily said...: I knew it would catch me if I came back to it later. Love the last two lines. Congrats. Discipline is worth it.; April 12, 2010 at 6:15 PM
don't be emily said...: so, you gonna post sometime??; June 7, 2010 at 5:01 PM
United World Poets said...: great poem; August 3, 2010 at 4:42 PM
~im just only me~ said...: Thanks United...
Katie... yes, sometime, I hope...; October 5, 2010 at 11:14 PM
Dayna said...: I love this one, and read it time and again; and every time...
Well, every time it reminds me how sometimes (and sometimes often) I wonder myself, again...; September 30, 2011 at 2:28 AM

In my Head ....

June Hymn - The Decemberists

Here’s a hymn to welcome in the day
Heralding a summer’s early sway
And all the bulbs all coming in
To begin
The thrushes bleating battle with the wrens
Disrupts my reverie again

Pegging clothing on the line
Training jasmine how to vine
Up the arbor to your door
And more
You’re standing on the landing with the war
You shouldered all the night before

And once upon it
The yellow bonnets
Garland all the lawn
And you were waking
And day was breaking
A panoply of song
And summer comes to Springville Hill

A barony of ivy in the trees
Expanding out its empire by degrees
And all the branches burst to bloom
In the boom
Heaven sent this cardinal maroon
To decorate our living room

And years from now when this old light
Isn’t ambling anymore
Will I bring myself to write
“I give my best to Springville Hill”

Poetry

Some Old School Verse

Edgar Allen Poe: Alone

From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were -- I have not seen
As others saw -- I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I lov'd, I loved alone.
Then -- in my childhood -- in the dawn
Of a most stormy life -- was drawn
From ev'ry depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still:
From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that 'round me roll'd
In its autumn tint of gold --
From the lightning in the sky
As it pass'd me flying by --
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.

I caught this morning's morning minion...

Sunday, March 14, 2010

Sonnet XIV

7 comments:

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In my Head ....

June Hymn - The Decemberists

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