You blow my river, yellow, turning mind,
in wild November breath of frosty dream,
down maiden falls of summer dress, to find
red staining rainy wind, upon my stream.
I peer inside your pool, to floating leaves
through rising misty air of scented snow,
in willowed lover's doubts, embracing breeze,
as rose bud cheeks, reflecting season's show.
And I remember, when you blushed for me,
in walking path, beside this rippled face,
when leaves first touched a deeper taste for tree,
in sighing lips of feather, swirling lace.
Now, I am spun in daze of Autumn glaze,
to wander fields of stubble, stinging maze.
A contest entry
- A contest for Sonnets on the change of seasons ONLY by ecrivain01.
450 points, ended October 27, 2007, 11 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Very nice. The syntax and sound patterning echo the spinning, roiling sense of the stream itself, with well chosen rhymes to compound that sense (especially in the couplet). Impressive and effective.
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This is a beautiful sonnet you have done on the changing seasons. The images and metaphor are excellent and it flowed like that stream, swift and powerful with wonderful emotions. I loved this one to pieces and wish you the best of luck in the contest. Keep writing poet. ♥ seamaiden
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lol...I think the judge has discovered your unique sonnets and I am happy he like them because you have a style of sonnets all your own, which I love ...and you have not written a sonnet in so long!! - this is beautiful, Mr. Mountain.
"And I remember, when you blushed for me,
in walking path, beside this rippled face,
when leaves first touched a deeper taste for tree,
in sighing lips of feather, swirling lace."
Wonderful change of seasons in this, a sad couplet..
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Very nice ...
but it doesn't sound like English. It's nice anyway, of course, and I can't pinpoint exactly why I like it, considering that I normally prefer poems in English to sound like English. The imagery in this is literally breath-taking, and I suppose that is the thing that strikes me the most about this. It sounds like someone who speaks French but has studied classical poetry for half a lifetime, in Japanese, and has only learned to speak English within the last year. That makes this one a really difficult dilemma for me.
The imagery in this brings a senyru to mind, and I am fond of haiku-like poetry, certainly. One sees that rarely in sonnets. It's more common in free verse, but even there it's rare. The picture that was chosen to go with this is particularly lovely as well.
All in all, I like this, regardless of the fact that it sounds so off the wall to me. Fortunately I'm not teaching English and being confronted with this in an English class while grading papers. That would cause me a lot of anguish; but here, it's simply a bit disrupting, and I find that reading this over a few times helps to allay that somewhat. Kudos to the author for carrying this off so well considering everything.
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