Who Was That Girl Beyond The Window Pane? - A Sonnet

Apparently waking for me is a good time for the first lines of sonnets. This is yet another production of early morning inspiration. I though it would be fun to write a silly sonnet after the more serious ones that have been coming from my figurative pen. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I had writing it.

Who Was That Girl Beyond The Window Pane

Who was that girl beyond the window pane?

The one with hair just like a chocolate fount

And eyes like emeralds dappled by the rain,

That sparkle like too many stars to count.

My heart is pounding like ten thousand drums

Or trying to escape me from within.

How can this girl be like a bard who strums

My heart as if it were a lyre thin?

Did she see me? Does she know I exist?

Will she come back to catch a glimpse of me?

Why is it so that someone can be missed

With just one look, the see-er no longer free?

Oh look! She dropped an item from her bag.

Our meeting's fate! No time to lollygag.

He Still Appears Like Echoes In My Mind - A Sonnet

Here is that sonnet I mentioned in my last post. I woke up one morning having the first line of a sonnet perfectly in my head and, because I didn't immediately write it down, all I could remember by the evening was "like echoes in my mind." It comes from the idea of when someone keeps coming to mind when you've tried to put them behind you. Enjoy!

He Still Appears Like Echoes in My Mind

He still appears like echoes in my mind,

Awake, asleep, at times inopportune.

A bond unbreaking, fates perhaps entwined,

From likened cloth, perchance, were we both hewn?

Has he become a spectre, closely tied

To earth, to me through ling'ring memory?

Refusing to release what was denied,

Have I thus cursed ourselves with devilry?

Farewell, my love. Forever now, adieu.

I shall release thee as thou dost deserve

For each man's soul shouldst not be bound anew

When once it has been freed from sin to serve.

May God forgive me for my selfish wish

To keep thee near instead of suffer anguish.

Hush Now, My Darling

So ... my challenge effort failed in most epic proportions. However, I have still attempted writing and thus here are the fruits of my labours. I also have a sonnet in the works that I will share hopefully in the near future. This is my attempt at a lullaby.

Hush Now, My Darling

Hush now, my darling, and sleep through the night.

Lay down thy head with the sun's fading light.

Let thy eyes close as the moon starts to rise

And stars twinkle brightly across dark'ning skies.

Dream now, my darling; be bothered by naught.

Worry and fear shall be things long forgot.

Pictures of love and of joy brimming full

Shall come to thee quickly in covers of wool.

Sleep now, my darling, as songs fill thy head,

Melodies soft as thou liest in bed.

God watches o'er thee; his love and joy teems.

You know so does mine. Now good night and sweet dreams.

Writing Challenge - Day 3

Roses are red;

Violets are blue;

I know this is rubbish

But it's the best I could do.

Don't know if you'll read this

Or if you will care

That I've poured out my heart

On the test of dare.

They saw me  look at you

And pulled me aside.

They said that they'd help me

If I gave up my pride.

Of course I refused

Thus paid for it dearly

By writing this poem

That has not come out clearly.

I'm not good with words

But the feelings are true.

If you couldn't guess,

I really love you.

If you think I'm creepy,

Just throw this away.

But if you want to meet me,

I'll be waiting all day.

Writing Challenge - Day 2

(inspiration for story below)

All It Took Was a Look

I remember the day I met him. Father was hosting a party for Mother's birthday and had spared no expense. I missed much of the preparations being away at school. When I asked how it had all come together in my absence, he said he had relied heavily upon a new secretary that I would meet him later that day for dinner. That evening, I came out to the parlour and saw my father sharing a drink with a young man. The man turned at Father calling out to me. “Elsie, this is Arthur Lynthol. Arthur, my daughter Elsie Cooper.”

P.S. This would have been posted yesterday but I accidentally hit the "save" instead of "publish" button.

Haikus on Fire

I just back from church camp today and while I was there, I wrote a few more haikus. During our time, a lot of fire imagery was alluded to such as being coals brought to life, the effort and persistence it takes to start a fire by rubbing sticks together, the embodiment of the Holy Spirit as flames. All this fire then brought images from my time at St. Katherine as well as other Bible stories to mind and then requested to be written down. I hope that they are enjoyed as much as they were a joy to write.

Amidst the incense,
Fire burns before Christ's icon
And in His icons.

Before the I AM,
Seraphim alight with love
Sing "holy, holy."

The pillar of fire
Acts as light and protection,
Burning with God's love.

Haikus for Spring

Surprisingly, I've taken a recent poetic turn in my writings. I wrote a sonnet, a couple limericks, and a few haikus. I rather liked the haikus and so thought to share them. After some polishing, I may publish the sonnet but only time will tell I suppose.

The cherry tree blooms,
Signaling the come of spring
And love's arrival.

The wind moves through grass
Like love in a maiden's heart,
Playfully gentle.

The blossoms soon fade,
Falling like pastel raindrops
On your hair and face.

All's Fair in Love and War

All's fair in love and war, they say. No holds are barred in pursuit of their end. Normally, love and war, aside from this statement, are depicted as opposites. Who can forget the hippie signs of "Make love, Not war." However, could it not be argued that there would be no war without love? Could it not be said that war could be reduced to a love worth fighting for? This may be a stretch, but it seems to make sense, does it not? The wars over territory, depending on the territory, could be rooted in a deep love of money, should the land be financially profitable, or a deep love of family heritage, should the land have historical significance. Wars for independence could spring from a love of liberty while holy wars could come from a pious love of God. In a similar way, it could be said that love is a kind of war: two or more sides vying for the same object in hopes of increasing their own happiness. While shells may not fly and trenches are left undug, emotions of the individuals will often fly in varying directions and trenches will be dug in their hearts as a result. Perhaps, this is all nonsense and groundless conjecture. Perhaps, the extrapolations may be taken too far. Yet, love and war do not necessarily seem so very different as is often presented.

Disclaimer: This is not to say that I believe that all those who instigate or participate in wars are doing so out of love for something. I am not so naive as to not know that there are people who do such things for uglier reasons. I also do not believe, though one may be motivated to war by a deep, perhaps even justifiable, love, that that makes war condone-able. I am not pacifist and do believe that there are things worth fighting for but war should never be glorified as something that every human being should aim for; war comes at a cost, often one that is more than had been expected or desired. Lastly, I do believe that it is through love that war may, at one time, come to an end. I do not think it likely that humans will ever reach that time in this present world, but I do think that there is a Love that can surpass all other loves, and hates, that motivate people to war. I only thought the subject was something interesting to ponder.