Sonnets and Scribbles by Ken Allan Dronsfield

Author:Ken Allan Dronsfield
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: poetry, love poems, lyrical poems, raw emotion poems, meditation poems
Publisher: Scarlet Leaf Publishing House
Published: 2020-02-14T00:00:00+00:00

Sonnet 14, Lichen and Moss

Stone walls are covered with lichen and moss;

along the country lane within the briers.

Mushrooms, wild raspberries all mark their time;

food for the animals and birds found there.

These ancient lands have seen war and harsh strife

witnessed good times of plentiful harvest.

The white farm is gone from across the way,

tis a fine spot to dig her hallowed grave.

Her breathing shallow late in November,

twas obvious she would not see the Spring.

A sad day with shovel near the old wall

digging a final rest where song birds sing.

I come by to put a rose on the rocks;

yellow lilies and sit with her to talk.

Sonnet 12, A Velvet Rhapsody

In a cool amber mists and wispy bonds;

a chilly stillness asleep in despair;

grayish clouds fading in a morning’s flair

dissolving above the bare trees and pond.

sunrise fights with pious tenacity;

to burn off this winter’s coolish caress;

warming of a spring soul without remiss,

return the land to its passivity.

O' warming orb of stellar radiance;

watcher of time, forever descendant;

sultry trance, a chimerical beauty;

heated passion; wanton evanescence.

Winter's heart has reluctantly withdrawn;

Bow down and pray; a velvet rhapsody.

Sonnet 100, Spring's First Sweet Kiss

Sing me a sonnet of spring's first sweet kiss.

Let me gaze at splendid colors around.

warm sun touching my cheeks; the cold remiss.

those angelic sounds of spring now abound.

The morning songbirds sing loud flying high,

honks of northbound geese waving in the mist.

the buzz of the bees all about the sky

The bedroom curtains gently dance and twist

whisper to me lines of a Summer's rhyme.

Sing me a last sweet winter serenade;

of things my memory shall keep in time

renewal of nature for which we prayed

await our toast to this sonnet with wine

springs first sweet kiss, we relax in the shade.

Poem, The Yearning

In this lifetime full of yearning

through which came wishing and dreaming

within many splendid, unquiet enthusiasms

a voice murmured back the word, prayer!

I was needy and you were solicitous,

my mind always straying to paradoxes.

Instead I uncovered brazen devotion,

the perkiness brought such euphoria

and so I screamed, 'Is that a blessing?'

Mattering and assaultive within theodicy

Urging and purging within my slyness,

shyness or otherness, I could not awaken.

Tossing its ghost into all desires,

'It's that barrenness,' I muttered

Queryingly back into my memories

craving the eccentric, eclectic fantasy

the yearning, an essential evanescence

an evolutionist laughed at me in retort.

'It's that piety,' I whispered.

The sunrise simply smiled.

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