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Stephen Pickering

Category: My Poetry

  • Sonnet #8 in Iambic Tetrameter – A White Hart

    What do we find ourselves inside?
    The Roman army’s moving north.
    A sacrifice the snake won’t die.
    The oblations smoke is rising fourth.

    Wish you could fall in love with me.
    The sacrament’s the gateless gate.
    I could turn you back from a stream
    Fulfilling or escaping fate.

    The Garden’s walls are Persian blue
    Aladdin’s castle’s Spanish bound.
    It all comes down to me or you
    If secrets hid are ever found.

    Our Jinn fall down a Roman well.
    The white hart runs without a trail.

    ©2013 Stephen K. Pickering

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  • Sonnet #7 in Iambic Tetrameter – “Blue Mountain”

    I think I’ve figured out a way
    To flower dreams and rain down stars,
    To step on through the cameras frame
    Back to a life that’s always ours.

    I think I’m bathing here in rain.
    On this blue mountains’ lifesong slope.
    Eternal, never ending train,
    You feather birds and lift our hope.

    I write today you underground.
    You’ll always hear my whistle song.
    This sea of Neptune will be found
    Through ocean blue and London fog.

    I’ve swum this sea that floods the past.
    A fish for which Apollo cast.

    ©2013 Stephen K. Pickering

     

  • Sonnet #6 in Iambic Tetrameter

    I don’t know why I turned away.
    I come to Athens to be born.
    The angel of goodbye will play
    Through even Aristotle’s horn.

    I will appear up from the sea.
    I am again borne by the tides.
    Will she agree to marry me?
    I like her wild, surprised green eyes.

    In soaking water I’ll be found.
    My river loves the water blue.
    I drink this love in which I drown
    Forever swimming here with you.

    We surface and what do we find?
    That fairy hills are back alive.

    ©2013 Stephen K. Pickering

    ——————–

    (04-18-13 I edited this today and changed some things. Threw out the original last stanza and closing two lines. They are here below. I’m gonna keep them around here on the blog post. If I ever make it into a musical song, I’ll need another stanza, and maybe another refrain.)

    You are the burning flame that rose
    But we can only feel the nail.
    When spring azaleas colors explode,
    Your spirit opens the sacred trail.

    I need to be outside with you.
    You’re soaked with Sun and morning dew.

     

     

  • Sonnet #5 in Iambic Tetrameter

    I think we can go back in time.
    Two eyes look out from this old house.
    Adventure starts when love’s divine
    and lights the flame that cries out loud.

    It’s time to slip on through this gap.
    It’s time to see what life’s about.
    We’re tired inside Guernica’s trap.
    Let’s leave tonight, and let’s get out.

    There must be something deeper still.
    Let’s be the things we want to be.
    Let’s know things even eyes conceal:
    Our true love waits below this sea.

    I think the song begins to sing.
    All time and space can hear it ring.

    ©2013 Stephen K. Pickering

  • Sonnet #2 in Iambic Trimeter

    Each thought I think of you.
    We’re here beneath the sea.
    A sea of dreams so blue.
    We breathe the ocean breeze.

    It seems so crystal clear.
    How can this not be real?
    I know it’s you that’s here.
    This is my heart you feel.

    This tree, it has a pain.
    It’s wounded like my heart.
    We stand here in the rain.
    We leave but never part.

    From sea to tree, how this?
    All from a goddess kiss.

    ©2013 Stephen K. Pickering

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  • Sonnet #10 – “Awake in the Snow”

    I’ll follow you now through the Russian snow.
    For I’m afraid of nothing now you’re here.
    You’ve whisked away my driving need to know
    And blown a kiss that flies me past my fear.

    I want to see the moonlight fall on you.
    It feels like something’s rising from the woods.
    I live outside in mud and dressed in dew
    With feeding flowers blossoming your buds.

    You’re radiating fires below my thought.
    The impulse for attention, let it go.
    You’re  jewel even gods have always sought.
    Your splendor singing silent songs of soul.

    Let’s listen to the music from the stars
    And know by giving up all this is ours.

    ©2013 Stephen K. Pickering

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