Blank Verse Shakespearean Crown
Man’s life is but a symphony sublime,
as cool fall winds sweep ‘cross my courtyard’s vault
‘neath Luna’s mellow glow tonight. I sip
red wine and ponder distant stars as I
begin to scribe what’s in my heart and soul.
Emerging times are difficult to bear…
O, how I struggle to discern life’s path
and meaning when all seems so onerous.
And yet when darkest night appears to reign,
the sun breaks through grey clouds and you reach forth
to grasp my hand and reassure that I’m
not lost in fog's ferocious fray this morning.
Just when I feel so lonely and e’er cold,
my loved one reaches forth to grasp my hand.
My loved one reaches forth to grasp my hand
before life’s tether breaks and I am cast
adrift and left awash in storm’s debris.
I grasp her hand and pull forth with my strength,
determined I will live to see sun’s rise
o’er Afton’s ridges after this long night.
O, priceless is the hand of love when one
is caught beneath deep fathoms of dark seas.
But yet within my mind the oil lamp burns
and casts life’s shadows on my yearning walls
that will converge one day to form a path
across the misty moor to good resolve.
Love reaches forth and quells the stormy day,
thus reassuring all is never lost.
Thus reassuring all is never lost,
you hold me close as night envelops day
and darkness slowly brightens distant stars.
‘Tis these times when I place my hand upon
your heart and softly kiss your shoulder while
we spoon in lovers’ clasp throughout the night.
I love how effortlessly you will turn
at dawn and hold my head upon your breast
so I can hear your beating heart and know
you will be here always. But rooster’s screech
disrupts our solitude and breaks the spell
of night’s sweet respite with you in my arms.
My grandest dreams and deepest fears resolved;
a night within my lover’s arms so true.
A night within my lover’s arms so true
still lingers deep within my heart despite
the time that’s passed us by. I still recall
late winter rains and wind’s grand orchestra
that played e’er softly on our window panes
whilst we made love as Billie sweetly sang.
O, such were precious times when love was ripe
and time stood still as I would hold you close.
But how could we know that our symphony
would wane as life’s reality crept in?
The cancer’s scourge changed all that we had known
and passion’s blaze now chilled by surgeon’s steel.
Life’s nectar lasts ‘til winter’s horrid wrath;
yet sweet ambrosia is life’s thinnest slice.
Yet sweet ambrosia is life’s thinnest slice
I tasted with delight so long ago
when I was in full hue with flowing hair,
and you as fair as Botticelli’s muse.
O, such was our time when the Earth stood still
whilst we would dance ‘round robust evening fire
beneath moon's iv'ry glow. I’d pull you close
and we would meld as mist above dawn’s sea.
And thus I drifted o’er the troubled waters.
I was awakened by your voice and kiss
so dear, reminding me ‘twas time to leave
the hospital and head for home’s warm hearth.
‘Tis mem’ries of our time e’er tightly wove;
life’s truest love shall keep one’s ballast sure.
Life’s truest love shall keep one’s ballast sure
as promised once forevermore so long
ago. Love’s brighter than sun's brilliant crest
o’er Earth’s rim on the clearest of fall morns.
The nip in late October’s air doth soothe
my heart and soul as I sit ‘neath old oak's
wide boughs and watch its colorful leaves dance
in lovers’ tango as they gracefully
drift towards a leaf-strewn patchwork quilt atop
the rolling meadow’s broad expanse. But leaves
soon wilt and rot into the soil and I’m
left wondering if my time soon shall end.
‘Tis Fall when nature and man shall converge
as life’s quilt melds into His loving grace.
As life’s quilt melds into His loving grace
in ways that soothe my heart with happiness,
I rise from my old chair and reach for leaves
and dearest memories that are aswirl.
I see my child with eyes aglow as she
was playing in leaf piles we raked so long
ago in that enchanted time of youth
and innocence. ‘Twas then my dearest wife
reached forth and held me close and sweetly said,
“Just as the trees shall weather winter’s wrath,
so too shall you endure for many springs
to come. My love, your time’s not yet at hand.”
Life’s melody flows endlessly with love-
man’s life is but a symphony sublime.
11 April 2016
POETIC FORM: Shakespearean Crown of Sonnets in Blank Verse
These poems form a crown, or 7 sonnets interconnected by the last line of the first sonnet forming the first line of the second, and so forth until the last line of the seventh sonnet forms the first line of the first sonnet, thus completing the crown. These sonnets follow the Shakespearean sonnet form except that they are written in blank verse, thus, there are no end-rhymes. The poem is written in iambic pentameter with some feminine verse incorporated as appropriate.
This has been a difficult crown to write, as I began it in October 2013 while visiting Asheville, NC. I've played with it off and on for these many months 'tween then and now, and lo, this past weekend the verse issues resolved as did, ultimately, the crown. Such is the nature of highly introspective and personal poetry.
Thank you for reading my poetry.