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Poems On / About SONNET  11/23/2014 7:03:25 PM
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  157.     

A Sonnet for Noireen

I saw you across a crowded room
I fell in love
I had to write you a sonnet
My heart went vroom vroom vroom
I asked for your hand
I won it

All the eyes were on us
As we glided across the floor
The ladies Cooed
The men cussed
All full of envy
As we danced more and more

We danced slowly
We danced swiftly
The ladies bowed so lowly
The men minced so shifty
We were too busy in love
Our steps as one so nifty

So let the music of love play on
Let the fiddler’s bow be long
As you danced like a swan
All the world stood outshone
As the crowd looked upon
At we two dancing as one

I thank the lord above
For being in that room
When I fell in love
As my heart went vroom vroom vroom
I asked for your hand
I won it

It’s been a few years now
My heart is still soaring
To you the perfect muse
I offer this humble sonnet
To one: in all ways so beautiful
To Noireen
 
Michael Micmac Mccrory

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  158.     

Not a Sonnet

I had to write a sonnet once
For English Lit, as I recall.
Bored youths expressing sentiment
Of which we knew nothing at all.
O'er paper, Parker pens were poised
Although experience we lacked
For how to write of lovers when
Our teenage hearts remained intact?

Now decades later I could scribe
A thousand sonnets easily.
How bitterly I could describe
Each scar that love has given me.
And what a poet I would make!
Love's tragic consequences plain.
But what I wouldn't give to be
That bored fifteen year old again.
 
Cressida Leigh

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  159.     

Prose and poetry

While prose limits, posits, pretends,
To narrow mundane meaning binds,
Fails to touch heart’s deepest core,
Frozen snow blocking freedom’s shore,
Fails when to explore new crests, finds
No rainbow shades, comes to dead ends,
We know why caveman chose to sing
Ere used speech communicating.

Yet, today’s cut-and-dry world speaks—
Prose to touch base, a mundane need,
Poems to reach rarefied peaks,
Oft failing still poorly indeed,
Whilst imitating a dull prose,
The rose forgets when it is rose.
________________________________________
This unusual sonnet is set in tetra metre. The
octave is rhymed: abccbadd, and the sestet
efefgg.
____________________________________________
- Sonnets | 05.09.12 |
 
Aniruddha Pathak

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  160.     

Evil ways are nine

If whoso fights should sure suffer defeat,
Naught is worth fighting o’er in this tired earth,
If there’s naught worth opposing, retreat,
To fight for one’s view is an idle mirth,
Like shadow fighting with a mirror’s beam,
A mere image that mimics at one’s own!
The world is good to good in world’s esteem,
Evil, the world has the worst never known.

We are taught: let not the light of lamp die,
There scarce is but one way should one walk out,
The darkling night ends to light up the sky,
Pleasure past pain, life pointing to death’s doubt;
Yet, wisdom of all books lives in one line:
The right way winds but one, wrong ways are nine.
_______________________________________________________
This sonnet is inspired by a shloka (a quatrain) in Mahabharata
as under:
Shlokaardhena pravakshyaami yaduktam grantha-kotibhih |
Paropakaara poonyaaya paapaaya para-peedanam ||
_______________________________________________________
- Sonnets | 12.09.12 |
 
Aniruddha Pathak

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