O' how I miss and mourn for mother's voice
That swiftly passed like Autumn's southern breeze
And took from Spring one less an Angel choice
That left my heart amongst the fallen leaves.
Appears the blossom tips were seeped that pain
As petals shader dark as love in mine
It too resounds in all the bird's refrain
As tho' their sadly tones; has mine assign.
Ah soon will summer rays then pierce my mourn
And shine that glow to when I lived a child
For mother's love is where my summer's born
And out that love my own has since been styled.
O' mother, yes mama I miss you more!
Than all the seasons bring and past before.
"Every week, this talented poet turns out sonnets for fun but, unfortunately in my opinion, they rarely get the recognition they deserve, on this site at least.
In honesty, this one doesn't always flow fluently, despite being written in pretty flawless iambic pentameter. The semi-colon in line eight, for instance, adds nothing there and only serves to disrupt the rhythm that iambic meter naturally provides. I also think that "And shine that glow to when I lived a child" could be altered somehow as it just seems a little forced, at least when worded like that. (note, I have no suggestion to offer!)
But that's the point: this form is incredibly hard and I think we often take their writing for granted. Above is nitpicking and only suggestion. Mark has written a moving and lovely sonnet (again) this week." (4)