I was just glancing at Youtube, and it said that it was national poetry month. Man they have a day and a month for everything, don’t they? Hehehehehe. Well, since I’m a poet, I thought I should write some poems, especially this month! Just wrote this sonnet a few minutes ago. Hopefully I can do one each morning for the remainder of the month, in honor of the month. I’ll just keep posting them here so I don’t have to have a new post for each and every poem. Maybe I’ll do a Youtube video at the end of the Month in honor of “Spoken Word Poetry.”
Sonnet – April 11th, 2011
The silent morning rings to life and sings.
Each note a whisper of our long lost love
that glides on creeks and swims through springs.
The turtles’ silence guards the lake all night.
The frogs swim through the moistness of our song.
When morning curtains nudge, they plop from sight,
Soul searching for our long lost golden ball.
The crickets provide the strings, the ducks the horns;
An evening symphony that gives us bliss;
To help in healing what the dragons tore,
And bring us comfort for those that we miss.
The flowers bloom, and trees sway in the wind.
They dance lost songs to visit us again.
___________
Sonnet – April 12th, 2011
Dreams carried us to worlds we’d rather stay.
The mind builds places our souls don’t belong.
And so the heart remains asleep all day.
Who’s driven long and who has driven far
To face the mountain hiding secret love?
Inside a bower lit with dreams by stars
They’re parted by the birthing rays above.
Below her bathing pool is where they hid:
Two gems of corn who’d seek the northern light.
She knew their power even just as kids
To overcome the monsters which they’d fight.
The road to follow is a mag’cal one
To marry dreams with the light of the Sun.
______________________
Sonnet – April 13th, 2011
Your hair is waving spirits to rise up.
Your parents are the mountains and the sea.
You dance with legs of deer and arms of dove.
Your eyes are saying dive and swim this stream.
They speak a language without having sound.
Tonight I dance with you like in a dream.
I can’t describe but know this thing I’ve found.
There are no tensions in this purest form,
Here even where Yeats said the ladder starts.
You are the place where happiness is born,
and fill with light the center of our hearts.
You are the warmth of Sun that’s brought by Spring
We glide on light by saying not a thing.
____________________________________
Sonnet – April 14th
And sing down by the river through the trees
They seem to have the glow that’s born inside;
Exuberance from not caring what life means.
A shadow carries water to their Spring.
They’ve always known that someone lived in there.
Was it a spirit or a human being?
They say it breathes the water, drinks the air.
The children leave their houses for the Sun.
They swim like fish this river made of snow.
It feels though time had just begun
The garden nature made so long ago.
And in the forest still the spirit rests.
Upon stars made from Mother Nature’s breasts.
____________________________
Sonnet – April 15th, 2011
But here in one wave where life splits in two,
Collapsed a notion of what’s wrong and right.
And now there’s nothing but toil and work to do.
Sometimes I think therefore I’m not so free.
The stagnant water forms where walls are built.
Drowning spirit born effortlessly.
Like burning rays so hot the flowers wilt.
It feels like its only those fleeting times
A moment when the mind naturally rests
A spirit born inside the heart’s red wine
Appears in actual joy and manifests.
A bliss that doesn’t seem the need to show
With pride how far it’s infinite knowledge goes.
_________________________
Sonnet – April 16th
What do I do I thought as things grew dim.
A feeling of emotions’ vision blur
When she brought night and cold from where she’d been.
What was this night so sad shown through her eyes?
It was an empty stare she laid down cold.
How can you judge a thing through all the lies
And describe a feeling that has not been told?
A path through strife we see a shining truth
Come here again so I can touch the face.
A land of plenty rises from the root
A mouth says things we feel but cannot trace.
Few days of riding through the emotional highs
It disappears up through the nighttime skies.
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