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Passions in Poetry

Entreating Time

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Senior Member
since 08-15-99
Posts 1966
Sitting in Michael's Lap

0 posted 06-09-2000 09:07 AM       View Profile for Skyfyre   Email Skyfyre   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems   Click to Submit your Poem to Passions  View IP for Skyfyre

Grim Kronos, set aside thine hourglass,
Let now the ever-shifting sands be stilled;
And suffer not this strange delight to pass
Like wine on that ungrateful desert spilled:
A trifle, swiftly gone!  Such stolid care
As is thy custom cannot here suffice;
No common hand may touch a thing so rare
Lest that most grave offence exact a price
In stolen virtue paid.  I prithee, stay --
Or stay thy hand, at least, and turn thine eyes,
And leave this stone unnoticed on thy way --
Thy chance neglect shall be my dearest prize.
If fleeting bliss be everlasting made,
Eternity should seem but meager trade!


It is only a test ...

If this were your Actual Life, you would have been given better instructions!

[This message has been edited by Skyfyre (edited 06-09-2000).]
© Copyright 2000 Linda Anderson - All Rights Reserved
Junior Member
since 06-04-2000
Posts 26

1 posted 06-09-2000 09:27 AM       View Profile for emmalouise   Email emmalouise   Edit/Delete Message     View IP for emmalouise

What a lovely sonnet!  Beautiful.

serenity blaze
Member Empyrean
since 02-02-2000
Posts 28839

2 posted 06-09-2000 01:05 PM       View Profile for serenity blaze   Email serenity blaze   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for serenity blaze

This is so artfully constructed  that I am envious--you make it look so easy...I found myself reading it over and over--(how DID she do that?)  Perfect, skyfyre.
since 03-22-2000
Posts 412

3 posted 06-09-2000 01:36 PM       View Profile for David2   Email David2   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for David2

   You are truly one of the most talented poets I have ever read. I am in complete awe of your ability to write verse. What a wonderful sonnet.
Member Ascendant
since 08-13-99
Posts 6333

4 posted 06-09-2000 02:18 PM       View Profile for Michael   Email Michael   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Michael

Oh, dearest child, why callest thou on me
As grim as I must yet before thee stand?
For surely it is I who envy thee,
What stands to fade, that I should stay my hand?
Thou marvels by the proclamation, true,
By tongue far mightier than sword could dare,
That I, albeit Time, must steal from you
The touch of one so priceless and so rare.
Wouldst then virtue not be the common thing?
Would not thine hand yet hold a greater trust?
For what could I provide Death would not sting,
That even I should not become as dust?
Indeed, should bliss yet stand eternity,
What wouldst thou have but love to trade with me?


[This message has been edited by Michael (edited 06-09-2000).]
Member Rara Avis
since 08-02-99
Posts 9130
Purgatorial Incarceration

5 posted 06-09-2000 10:17 PM       View Profile for Christopher   Email Christopher   Edit/Delete Message      Find Poems  View IP for Christopher

Ah but don't I know this feeling. Time, ever the evil agent. Wish for it to slow, but nay, it flies like a star through your life. Ask it to speed and it becomes likened unto a snail's path across the earth.

That's all I can say bout that.
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