There is a reason I must say goodbye,
The search for peace for years has been my quest,
But you have thwarted every plan I try,
And even gentle words you would contest.
So many sighs now echo through my mind
A thousand questions, finding no response,
Such love and loathing cruelly are entwined,
For you treat every hurt with nonchalance.
So, sometimes we must break the thread that binds,
To seek tranquility we must be bold,
For love can be the lance that often blinds:
Quicksilver is a force you cannot hold.
A white stork gliding southward I will fly,
Still thinking of that silent last goodbye.
Author notes
White storks are silent, they have no call, due to under developed larynx, and glide not often flapping their wings, so they do not fly over vast areas of sea as this would require too much energy, but take the longer overland voyage where they can glide for hours on air currents.
A contest entry
- A Grand Farewell to All Poetry by Great Cthulhu.
1735 points, ended December 27, 2008, 15 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - misery loves company... by nobodys-girl.
700 points, ended January 18, 92 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Shakespearean Sonnet Competition: "PREVIOUSLY WRITTEN" WORK ONLY. by Vera Rich.
490 points, ended June 15, 51 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Admissions by TheCorrodedBreed.
400 points, ended July 15, 9 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Only rhyme prewrite contest by Ami.
550 points, ended October 1, 41 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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I never knew that white storks have no voice
This metaphor is therefore fresh to me
And this, a very worthy silver choice
Perfectly crafted as a poem can be
So many sonneteers upon this site
This contest shows the breadth of their design
It is a satisfying form to write
When one must count and quantify each line
What is the magic of that fourteen count
Why is pentameter so cool to pen
And when we've reckoned the correct amount
What makes us wish to do it all again?
It is our wish somehow to emulate
The Avon Bard who made the sonnet great.
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Di this is very nicely put together. It has a natural flow, with one possible exception, which is line 13; there is something about the simile - it leaves "white stork" without an article, when all the other nouns in the poem have articles. My suggestion - why not forget the simile, and simply make the white stork your personification? The couplet would then become:
A white stork gliding southward I will fly,
Still thinking of that silent, last goodbye.
Please forgive my presumption. It's your baby, and your choice, and no matter what - it's a damn fine sonnet. Congratulations on the trophy.
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A gentle and beautiful sonnet from a sonneteer I have admired since joining this site. Unusual but compelling metaphor, delicious in every way
Crongrats on the shiny
Jeff
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congradulations on the silver
all I can add is another sigh
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A very nicely wrought sonnet, with some excellent lines and insights. the rhymes are fresh and well-chosen, and the grammatical inversion in line 4 works well. I like this very much.
By the way, I found your note interesting - and a little puzzling: surely storks must on occasion fly across narrow expanses of sea? After all, storks from Europe winter in Africa. True, they make the crossing at the narrowest points, the East European storks cross at the Bosphorus! Moreover, in the Middle Ages storks used to nest in England (as I understand it, Oliver Cromwell was to blame for their disappearance; he had the East Anglian fens drained, so destroying their habitat!) And to get to England mediaeval storks would have had to cross at the very least the 22 miles of open water between Calais and Dover. -
I love the line "Quicksilver is a force you cannot hold"This is so beautiful, sad and thoughtful
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this is just amazing... i really have no other words for it. thank you so much for entering my contest and best of luck!
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Truly impressive!
The sonnet is one of the hardest forms to work with and you've executed this nicely, well done! Thanks for entering and good luck in the contest! -
Wonderful Shakespearean sonnet, Di! You are, and will always be, the master. I loved the rhymes, rhythm, and flow. Sometimes it is best NOT so say goodbye - just leave silently, because it is not the time or place for words. Nice research on the white stork, this was my favorite analogy. I wish you best of luck in the contest - but I will try to challenge you for the gold trophy! Hugs, Jim
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Di, my love, this is probably one of your best ever.
The sonnet is always your best form, except when you
chance untrammelled free verse, and this one is beautiful. Its aching sadness runs through every line mainly because the search hasn't yet been fulfilled.If I had to choose two lines as 'best' they would have to be: "For love can be the lance that often blines:/Quicksilver is a thing you cannot hold" even though an alternative for 'thing' would make it perfect. The idea is just so brilliant. Now be that white stork and find that tranquility. mlj
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I know the plight of this bird personally all too well. A sensitive compassionate soul will make excuse for the abuser time and time again. Until it becomes unbearable and we must find a truer course in our own existance.Very informative piece too on habits of the actual bird.Such depths in emotion penned!
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Brava!
Dear Di,
This is a wonderful poem. I love the last three lines the best...they are so suitable to the rest of the poem... It made me think of Italy! Sometimes we
glide in order to think, clear our souls and sooth our minds and then we get on with our existance! Brava!
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