Voices call across the sea, to my ears
the fallen leaves rustle, 'neath the chill east wind,
all blessings, that befall my mortal eyes.
So breathes, in this dream, as hot drought of wine,
while the chill of winters wroth touch, my fears
expel with steam, as parting lips, rescind--
Warble of the bluebirds song, sweetly flies
unto my listening ears! Supple vines
Oh, Halcyon days, gone by... Who sheds tears?
Over the false beliefs, berift of night,
Who profits? As Johnny came marching home,
awful darkness, his winter washed ashore--
What sullen days retold, again for blight?
Our hero walks, a barren wasteland's loam--
In a list
Let me know How this makes you feel, what do you think?
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
-
Wonderful
Very well done. A great effort at a sonnet.

-
-
Thankyou for the wonderful comment!
-
-
Well... I'm a sucker for sonnets, so you pretty much won me over immediately. Even if it wasn't though... this was beautiful. I admired the melancholy feeling throughout this piece and the brilliant imagery. Well done love.
-
"So breathes, in this dream, as hot drought of wine," I really enjoyed reading this poem - and I hope others take them time to read it as well. Very nice
-
-
Thank you, I apreaciate you taking the time to read and comment, am glad you enjoyed it.
-
1 - 5 of 5




