Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Something to write about

The page I first wrote a sonnet on is now turning yellow. It was an assignment for English Lit when I was a Senior in High School. The muse of my poem was a boy with whom I was irrevocably smitten. He didn't know I existed until the inelegance of puberty had matured enough to morph my body into an exquisite, little fairy at age 17. He, of course, then noticed. We kissed and fell into first love's grasp.

Because the teacher questioned the authenticity of the sonnet, she gave me an A-. I deserved an A+.
Bitch.

Sonnet
The look upon those eyes of dearest care
which melts the heart in tears of disbelief,
have stricken me to fall in madmen's dare
for you have filled my soul with mellow grief.
The treasure of this truth kept unrevealed
has left you much uncertain of your will
confessing hymns will keep and force lips sealed
with nothing else to feel, but fear to kill.
The reason of this silence, sound of youth
disquiet rules the noble hearts of fools,
with love so strong and painful as to soothe
the lives of two when distance of truth rules.
     How further will this jewel keep unrevealed?
     When two of hearts in silence have been healed.

1 comment:

  1. Dylan Thomas once confided that the poems which had most influenced him were Mother Goose rhymes which his parents taught him when he was a child. He did not understand all of their contents, but he loved their sounds, and the acoustic qualities of the English language became his focus in his work later. He claimed that the meanings of a poem were of "very secondary nature" to him.

    Your poem has a lovely rhythm.

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