A chilly wind, stirs autumn’s leaves,
As the cold, bare tree grieves
For the loss of it’s once green hands,
Now at winter’s frosty demand.
Caught in winter’s frosty grasp,
Is all of the Earth, in a clasp.
Snowflakes fall, down to the ground,
Unable to utter a single sound.
A blanket of snow covers the soil,
No one, except spring, can foil
The plan of this icy king,
That cold and hatred brings.
Author notes
My very first sonnet. Not as good as the pros, but I hope that I can get better at writing this type of poetry.
A contest entry
- PIF, Sonnets Only by ecrivain01.
800 points, ended September 10, 7 entries
Honorable winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
-
It is a fine poem, but I'm not sure it may be defined as a sonnet. The standards have relaxed in recent decades, but this stretches the conventions a little too much.
A sonnet generally has 14 lines while this has only 12. Also, most sonnets are not composed of a series of rhyming couplets as this is, but have a more complicated rhyme scheme derived from an octave and a sestet.
I did enjoy the imagery, and the metaphor of winter as a tyrant. With the mention of spring, this looks like it could be part of a series on the seasons, each typified by character traits of various human roles.
-
And good luck with ...
your writing.
-
This is a wonderful poem. You have true talent..keep writing!!
Adding your comment:
