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365 Sonnets is completed! While there be no more new posts, feel free to read the sonnets and comment! :)

You can read my new poetry at Some Turbid Night: http://someturbidnight.blogspot.ca/ :)

Thursday, August 05, 2010

Sonnet CCCXLII

The moths flit through the sea, ephemeral;
each emerald wave progresses quicker past.
The sky is blushing like a love-struck girl
and dreams, her troubled forehead overcast.

The youth of day, her liveliness fade fast;
great mountains frame the twilight of her face.
Her blazing iris tumbles shut at last:
the birds come flying for one last embrace,
imparting to that cheek an everlasting grace.

When laid to rest, surrounded by the earth,
unseeing eyes shall still observe this place.
The clouds forever sail this planet’s girth -
No death could steal them from my feeble grasp;
and evermore the grass shall faintly rasp!

2 comments:

A word is dead
When it is said,
Some say.

I say it just
Begins to live
That day.

- Emily Dickinson

Thanks, Wordle!