Sun In Strife (English sonnet)

by Ben Pickard   Apr 15, 2019


In melodies, my inspiration springs,
Yet harps and sad guitars are all I hear;
But if the dove was clipped and had no wings
No longer could I write nor shed a tear.
A certain type of woe brings words to life,
But other sorts can stem the river's course.
How very odd, to see the sun in strife
And still find peace amidst the thorns and gorse.
Has Mother played a wicked trick on us?
Would she, resplendent be, with teary rain?
Would she amass her brooks with brine and thus
Allow us all our poetry again?
Oh, happy quill, now dripping globs of blood!
Oh, Nature, how you glorify the flood!

--

Ben Pickard 2019

9


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Latest Comments

  • 1 day ago

    by CRAFTY KEN

    Again, the Master strikes, the quill wounds the parchment, it bleeds and flows, from it's prose, poetry glows!
    Nice work Ben, added to my Favorites.

    • 1 day ago

      by Ben Pickard

      Ken, your comments get me every time. Thank you.

  • 2 days ago

    by - Mr. Darcy

    To scrawl a comment to a Sonneteer
    In globs of blood so he can see and hear:

    Inspired words born out of nature's lust
    Creates wisdom for ev'ry one of us

    • 1 day ago

      by Ben Pickard

      "nature's lust" - damn, I should have squeezed that in somewhere, Michael...

      Take care

  • 3 days ago

    by Brenda

    Ben, I do adore your sonnets. Beautiful as always-

    • 3 days ago

      by Ben Pickard

      Thank you, Brenda. Take care and all the best.

  • 4 days ago

    by Maple Tree

    Your Sonnets give me comfort- just beautiful <3

    • 4 days ago

      by Ben Pickard

      Thank you, Maple and thank you for the nomination.

  • 4 days ago

    by Ben Pickard

    Thank you, Dagmar. Take care

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