The Prospect of Love (in three sonnets)

How to Join	Member's Area	Private Library	Search	Sanctuary		Login
Main Forums	Discussion	Tech Talk	Mature Content	Archives	A home without a wall, Our haven without ends, A circle we all call Our Family of Friends!

Local Parasite

Member Elite

since 2001-11-05

Posts 2527
Transylconia, Winnipeg

0 posted 2003-01-06 04:05 PM

To paint thy picture, all to speak in lines
and strokes, the careful flicker of a wrist
by which thy faults are fallow'd and dismiss'd
A canvas to a moment's blink confines
But capture, tis the art of frozen sight
And thus, behind the eyes, a frozen mind
Those frames around be shunn'd and render'd blind
That mirth or melancholy gather light
And seranade my pen with all thy charms
To speak in verse, the artful flow of time
For thee, thou being simple and sublime
I place thy portrait sprawl'd by eager arms
That all may know, and all may understand
Thy silent form - thy gifts, and merits grand

I've written oft upon an empty mind
What comes to me, when I am at my rest
And put my thoughts and musings to their best
To render me a state of woe resigned
Each letter old, no newer thoughts arise
It all returns in crafted structure-clay
The moment on that weak december day
Which all-too-oft my heart does recognize
A ghostly blessing - drest in colours bland
And worn with weary worry and concern
Despite it all, the yellows I discern
Cannot disguise the stronger hues at hand
That satin skin, that honey-flavoured hair
That wanders down to cloak thy wistful stare

And after there, I knew we walk'd in step
For tales of you did flutter and careen
Between my thoughts, afloat my words serene
That comfort me myself, though vainly kept
And narrowly administer'd as well
Injected to my corpse, to raise it back
Thy hues to frame the world of white and black
Without my thoughts of you, my heart would swell
Beat blackly for an age, until it dies
Suspended still in failing love's contempt
I ne'er would want to see my soul exempt
Such punishment a pleasure to mine eyes
For death in vain, a virtue still could be
If it would bring a love more true to thee.

serenity blaze
Member Empyrean

since 2000-02-02

Posts 27738

1 posted 2003-01-06 09:54 PM

Sometimes I have trouble believing that you are of this time.

As you prolly already guessed, I am not generally a fan of olde english...smile, but the way you do this, it doesn't feel forced at all.

In fact, this is so artful lovie. And to paraphrase an old saying?

"No I don't know meter, but I know what I like"

and this just...flowed. Both in construction and emotionally.

*hand over heart*

Hugs.

Truly truly beautiful.

I keep this in the library? YES, to dream, perchance to read again....

LoveBug

Moderator

Member Elite

since 2000-01-08

Posts 4697

2 posted 2003-01-06 10:06 PM

*swoons*

I must say... you have outdone yourself with this one, dear friend. Three consecutive sonnets... each could stand alone easily with their content, but the three together flow so wonderfully! Such beautiful words... though I must say I enjoy the first and last sonnets the best..

"Without my thoughts of you, my heart would swell
Beat blackly for an age, until it dies
Suspended still in failing love's contempt
I ne'er would want to see my soul exempt
Such punishment a pleasure to mine eyes
For death in vain, a virtue still could be
If it would bring a love more true to thee."

Just... whew!

Peace I leave with you, My peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you.--Jesus Christ

serenity blaze
Member Empyrean

since 2000-02-02

Posts 27738

3 posted 2003-01-06 10:25 PM

"To post...perchance to library again?"

GROAN.

*slapping forehead*

I got the grace of a duck, I tell ya!

Janet Marie
Member Laureate

since 2000-01-22

Posts 18554

4 posted 2003-01-07 02:06 PM

To paint thy picture, all to speak in lines
and strokes, the careful flicker of a wrist
by which thy faults are fallow'd and dismiss'd
A canvas to a moment's blink confines
But capture, tis the art of frozen sight
And thus, behind the eyes, a frozen mind
Those frames around be shunn'd and render'd blind
That mirth or melancholy gather light
And seranade my pen with all thy charms
To speak in verse, the artful flow of time
For thee, thou being simple and sublime
I place thy portrait sprawl'd by eager arms
That all may know, and all may understand
Thy silent form - thy gifts, and merits grand

I've written oft upon an empty mind
What comes to me, when I am at my rest
And put my thoughts and musings to their best
To render me a state of woe resigned
Each letter old, no newer thoughts arise
It all returns in crafted structure-clay
The moment on that weak december day
Which all-too-oft my heart does recognize
A ghostly blessing - drest in colours bland
And worn with weary worry and concern
Despite it all, the yellows I discern
Cannot disguise the stronger hues at hand
That satin skin, that honey-flavoured hair
That wanders down to cloak thy wistful stare

=========================================

have mercy....the moth is sated in cadence and rhyme DIVINE...
ok...its time you came out...
How old are you REALLLLLLLY??????

This is just so outstanding Brian...truly...
the vocab and language is as brilliant as the meter, alliterations and imagery, not to mention the romantic intend that would make ole Bill Shakes weep ... and the fact that you can triple it and not lose your momentum is equally impressive...
this is a stunning write and moment of high inspire ...most of us would kill to write at this level once...you do it consistantly.
very very cool muse ya got there my friend..

That satin skin, that honey-flavoured hair
That wanders down to cloak thy wistful stare

*sigh*

I have poetic envy and admiration.

Will the wind remember the names it has blown in the past?
With this crutch, its old age and wisdom, it whispers no ... this will be the last.

jh

knightlyshadows
Senior Member

since 2001-04-14

Posts 791
obscured vision

5 posted 2003-01-08 01:45 AM

quote:
That comfort me myself, though vainly kept
And narrowly administer'd as well
Injected to my corpse, to raise it back
Thy hues to frame the world of white and black
Without my thoughts of you, my heart would swell
Beat blackly for an age, until it dies
Suspended still in failing love's contempt
I ne'er would want to see my soul exempt
Such punishment a pleasure to mine eyes
For death in vain, a virtue still could be
If it would bring a love more true to thee.

WHERE are the men like this in Alabama? I sure as hell can't find them anywhere.. *whimpers* you're amazing brian.. I think Serenity Blaze said it best..

quote:
Sometimes I have trouble believing that you are of this time.

Indeed, love, there's no one else quite like you. *peck* Great write, bro.

“A single choice can build destinies, or destroy them.”

..You can't fight the tears that aren't coming..

Local Parasite

Member Elite

since 2001-11-05

Posts 2527
Transylconia, Winnipeg

6 posted 2003-01-09 02:00 PM

Serenity - Thanks, you. I do try to go for the emotional thing lately. Think it looks good on me? Who knows. I think all the romantic poetry I'm reading lately has had an impact on the emotional content of my work. (shrug)

Erica - Stop swooning!

And I haven't outdone myself. Not even I can outdo myself...

JM - You always flatter me, and for that I thank you. And? I'm really........ 18 years old.
Or... am I

?

Tiff - you want men like that, move to Winnipeg. This one's single.

thanks all for reading me... as always, all your input is much appreciated. Love you guys!

Brian

	⇧ top of page ⇧
All times are ET (US). All dates are in Year-Month-Day format.