Ian Konopatzke

Soneto

O Selene, th’ Dawn of thee, so begets th’ writ of woe

As day retreats, for repose ‘t seeks, so comes thy ancient glow

Of burnishéd gold, and shimmering tones, and evokes a fecund mood

Thus, to thy beauty a song, celestial one, goddess who weeps for erstwhile love

 

Anew Selene, call I to thee, she who dwells above

E’en mortals ‘neath, too share thy grief, strangers not to anguished bosom

So too we plead be love not brief, till retires Earthly form

Ere finality proceeds, ‘fore life’s fugacity, do I take to verse solemn

 

Aye, doleful I sing, mid the reign of e’en

How the nightly hour doth conjure lament

And though th’ heavens are replete with th’ color of ebony

Embosomed am I by august luminescence

 

O Mother of seas, spawn of th’ Greeks

Predilect of th’ Romantics

Anon Apollo shall greet th’ skies with light abounding

Yet, will I await the return of thy presence