(sonnet # CCCLXI)
Morn but belated dawns, or steals forth quite
Concealed, as Autumn mourns the loss of Spring
And Summer's fairest treasures, latest being
The grievous measures just inflicted, sight
Confounded, beauty's well-nigh fled; the blight
Of year's end seems a very death, whose sting
Fall's dear delights has conquered, all to bring
Joy down to naught, in barrenness indict?
For what fault, eh? The region cloud masks day,
Who treads with sullen step as near forlorn
As any doomed soul might; night's dim dismay
O'ershades, and requiem demands. Love worn,
With romance struggles yet to paint th'array
Of silhouettes with cheer, Life's bier forsworn.
06Dec11
D34a
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Author:
Chic George (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: December 7th, 2011 00:14
- Comment from author about the poem: Seeking inspiration, I found it finally in Shakespeare's 33rd sonnet and Main's ensuing discussion of "rack" and "region cloud" in the study notes, elated to discover the fitting poetic term for the overcast skies that of late prevail. Chasing the thought and the scenery (as usual) down in this sonnet, it has very uncheerful notes. Maybe a further to lighten it, later?
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 14
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