The Ides of March

The Ides of March, cruel fate’s Spring Cleaning Day,
when solid walls collapsed around his head:
The day his trusted friends left him for dead.
Once mighty kingdoms fall, dreams burn today.
Bull market's passed; today bears rule the fray.
Before the Reaper, the strongest bow their head.
What is Mount Everest's fate? A hill, eroded.
The world's crown runs as silt into the bay.

Soft Yin Chi hides its sharp teeth, bloody horns,
‘Ere Vishnu builds, Shiva must do his worst.
Before a sowing comes the field's demise.
And sunlight passes black before each morn.
In every blessing, this implicit curse,
as naught can grow if nothing ever dies.

3/15/16, revised 10/6/24
Italian/Petrarchean Sonnet
abbaabba cdecde
Copyright © | Year Posted 2016

Poem

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Leiser Avatar
March 15, 2016 at 11:10 PM
This excellent sonnet is way beyond me, a magnificent write, Tom! Very admirable, indeed. A 7!
Quigley Avatar
March 16, 2016 at 7:38 AM
Dunno 'bout that first part, but thanks! Re writing--just keep at it! I feel the same way about some of the stuff I read here.
Ashe Avatar
March 15, 2016 at 9:07 PM
And he said "Et tu Brute?' Every last line says it all! You Write! Nice one Tom!...the pic is on it!
Quigley Avatar
March 15, 2016 at 10:49 PM
Thanks, Walter!
Turner Avatar
March 15, 2016 at 8:47 AM
Tragedy turned into prosperity. Beware the Ides of March my friend, as it has come but not yet gone. Love the classic write my friend. Your knowledge and talent seem to be unmatched. Peace my friend:)
Turner Avatar
March 15, 2016 at 10:08 AM
Truer words were never spoken! There most definitely is a lot of talent here. You're a class act my friend, well worth the price of admission. Peace:).
Quigley Avatar
March 15, 2016 at 9:54 AM
Thanks! I'm a fledgling here. So many very talented folks. :-)
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