Written by yours truly, these three sonnets are really imperfect sonnets, trying to at least resemble, the Shakespearean sonnet pattern, a-b-a-b, c-d-c-d, e-f-e-f, g-g.
Sonnets 016, 012 and 035 are imperfect sonnets with a description of a perfect love written in three different ways.
An ordinary day of September,
no time for daydreams, the mind grows weary,
of learning and reading, too much to bear.
Thus lazily, hours become cheery.
I gazed upon a new discovery,
as it transforms into an interest.
Something exquisite like a strawberry,
with such delightful scent I crave to taste.
Familiar face yet a different look,
a Sherlock’s mystery to be unfold.
Splendid distractions better than a book,
and as moments slip, forever I hold.
Child in into a lady, lost in a dream,
of love’s enchantment, it’s opaline stream.
(November 7, 2010)
Still silence upon the solemn evening.
Lips remain sealed as the eyes speak the words.
Love sings, inaudible for the hearing.
Two hearts meet thus a clash of diverse worlds.
Eve to Adam as Venus to red Mars.
Moon kisses the sun as day meets the night.
Frightful thoughts for the sane, a lover’s curse.
To gamble and lose is fate’s ugly bite.
Yet the call of love remains enticing,
a beautiful promise of devotion.
Alas, beating heart is not for feeling,
not to hear, not to see such illusion.
Tomorrow’s destiny, a mystery.
This eve, a freedom of heart’s misery.
(October 8, 2010)
While the earth loses more of its splendor,
I memorize the color of its youth.
Fresh scented greens, as mark of its grandeur,
into compost of unspeakable loot.
Stormy skies in the month of sunny May,
cold winter in an Egyptian palace.
The world has turned upside down as they say –
in a harsh way, into bitter solace.
Sadly, I gazed upon a stranger’s eyes,
As I remember its familiar spark.
Still, a lover’s sacred vow never dies –
ever feeling, not a question to ask.
Changes can be unnerving to embrace,
hence my courage, as within your arms – my place.
(April 30, 2011)
© Phoenix Montoya @ 2010 - 2011