He grins like sweet summer sun and dons a musky mojo,
causing the blooms to titter and roll their sweat onto him;
trancing the sage-less, sarky studmuffins to stare in awe;
and I, the shufflebutt, love to lean my days on his beam.
Like sugar pine he is to me that scares not the swallows,
who are in sound search for the fragrance of elysian life.
Critters beyond twilight are no better against his sense
of humor, which oft makes me surely grow in such a rife
for when the banshee wind wails I’ll not be in a pretense.
But when all around him, not calm, or earth is in hollows,
there is this wrath in him that he can wake in a fine line
and prick you without knowing, as if you touch the roses
and sense their thorns. Also, in his choler there is his kind
of love; feel it, be the perfect cone of my heart’s verses.
Categories:
nestorian, father, introspection, lifeme,
Form: Sonnet
Ah not so long ago, when we were us, time was all ours!
We let our spirits happily sway in the great fountain
Of faith, where we etched our own history counting the stars
Fluttered in the night sky. Oh, what a passion we had then!
And I kept you in the rosy earth of my heart so glee.
That when you returned, back from a lady boot shaped country,
And seeing you one day, alone, under the glimmers of
A retreating sun, I hurried my shadow along the
Street of for old time sake to hug you, to express my love.
When I had you there was no such hunger, nor thirst in me.
But now as I embraced you, I hardly felt the warmth of
Your blood. I wonder why; is it ‘cause now a cold season,
Or maybe jet lag still eats you? Sure you’ll take yourself off
From my reasoning, and be more fixed on your salvation.
* Nestorian Sonnet is a variant form of old sonnet and in it are three quatrains that rhyme,
with fourteen syllables in each line. Line five rhymes with line ten and it is not necessary to
end it with a rhyming couplet.
Categories:
nestorian, friendship, loveold, old, time,
Form: Sonnet