Sonnets Here, In-House

Copper (ie Composer Of Profound Poetry with Excellent Rhythm), could I request a sonnet for each of my 2 close friends whose weddings I can't get to?
thanks
TG (aka Tim)
 
TheGardener said:
Copper (ie Composer Of Profound Poetry with Excellent Rhythm), could I request a sonnet for each of my 2 close friends whose weddings I can't get to?
thanks
TG (aka Tim)
Click to expand...

In appreciation for the neat acronym, I'll be glad to write such poems as fast as I can get to it. But I'll need to have some specific facts about the persons in question, so that the poems REALLY WILL be about them.
 
Craig, the 1st of the weddings is originally from south africa but has now been living here in nz for quite a while, works in finance and is marrying a NZer. Nathan is from nz, does alot of work helping refugees (I've sometimes helped him shift furniture he's found for them) and is marrying an ethiopian who I think might also be from a refugee family.
 
For The Gardener's Friends


To Craig, the friend of Tim, I send salute!
Tim says you first were a South African,
But chose New Zealand, thanks to which, a cute
Young Kiwi lady soon will have her man.

If God bestows on you fertility,
Since kiddie cinema's your expertise,
The kids will gain by your ability
To judge the merits of each film release.

I hear that you run lighting for a church;
I trust your pastor also shines a light.
While you're on task in your technician's perch,
I trust you hear God's Word expounded right.

Your faith-potatoes grow in Middle-Earth,
So honor Jesus on the Hobbit's turf.


Hail Nathan, sure and steadfast! Your Brigade
Is something the United States could use.
Our Scouts have been invaded, I'm afraid--
Or has New Zealand heard about that news?

Your friend, whom we know as The Gardener,
Asked me if I might honor you in rhyme.
Now I've agreed, you'll be the arbiter:
Have I done well, or did I waste my time?

If you've been told about The Dancing Lawn,
Where we, like your Brigade, like living clean,
I hope that you'll consider signing on,
Though first you have to make the wedding scene.

God bless you and your Ethiopian!
Will she join us as well? I hope she can!

 
In Honor of the Oklahoma Tornado Survivors

It seems that Nature studies Murphy's Law:
Kicks people when they're down, and when they stand.
Those folks in Oklahoma, as we saw,
Have had the rug pulled out on their own land.

A church, or individual, may try
To help such folks replace what has been wrecked,
But Nature pokes us freshly in the eye,
Destroying more, as fast as we collect

Relief supplies. Yet still we must attempt
To help as we have means. A friend has said
That giving alms counts as a sacrament;
If even one is clothed, or housed, or fed,

That's better than if that one person died.
It's always better if we know we tried.
 
On Housecleaning

My wife and I each own a house. Result?
The houses show the contrast of our minds.
My own is like the nest of some weird cult,
Piled high with dishes, bones, and melon rinds.

In Carol's, neatness reigns; not hard to guess
How this could be a cause for discontent.
She's on a trip, and ere she comes back west,
I hope to remedy the detriment.

That's why poor Alipang and all his cast
Are left suspended, crises incomplete.
First things have to be first, and last things last;
Right now, I have to prove I can be neat.

Once clothes are put away, and weeds are cropped,
I'll try to pick up stories that I dropped.
 
Copperfox said:
I shall now begin a new series of sonnets, unified by a theme of youth, age, love, disappointment, hope, maturity, and the gaining of wisdom. Dang, do you think this theme will provide enough material?

My age was twenty-seven on the day
When I was married first; Wife Number One
Had thought her youth had flown too far away,
For she was older -- but we had our fun.

It's far, far better getting married late
Than marrying someone unsuitable.
Some teens will think there's only one soul-mate,
But new friends may be found recruitable.

Of my three loves, no two have been the same,
But all are precious; each made me confront
Some variation in the human game.
So I tell those who've just begun the hunt:

Leave God in charge, He does know more than we;
He knows who'll fit your personality.
Click to expand...


Copperfox, as one who is about to married very soon, and who has waited, may I say thank you for sharing sir! I am finding joy and pleasure in the simplest of things, and God has not ceased to amaze me. He truly has good good plans for us...as Genesis says "And God saw all He had made, and it was very good"
 
Firefly, I wish you only the best; and if you have not already done so, I urge you to read Mister Lewis' book "The Four Loves." Meanwhile, I humbly thank you for commenting on my poetry thread; I had begun to think I was under some sort of embargo.
 
Latest For "Karoliina Aleksandra"

It's bad enough to get an insect sting
Mysteriously, like a magic spell;
It's worse when inflammation does its thing,
And causes your left knee to burn and swell.

My love is far from clueless in first aid;
There were things she could do for her relief.
Still, at such times, infection seeks to raid
The body; so I gave my wife no grief

About a trip to hospital; I drove,
She navigated. There, a resident
Prescribed what should remove this rash we loathe,
Inflicted by that bug so pestilent.

If I should ever catch that foul insect,
It's going to find its day is really wrecked.



 
Back in the old days, when we used to walk two hundred miles to school each morning, struggling through snowdrifts under a blazing desert sun, young people weren't _spoiled_ the way they are today. They had the gumption to look at _earlier_ posts of a web-forum topic, to see if they were missing anything of merit. But since kids _are_ spoiled now, I'll indulge the latest generation of TDL members -- by re-posting one of my _older_ sonnets.

This was composed in honor of my actual blood-related niece, Elizabeth Bretscher.


I marvelled at you on the holidays:
A beauty now, your mother fresh-revised.
"She's like the hammered dulcimer she plays,"
I thought; "she's music, though it's for the eyes--

"A music which can dance to its own sound,
And stimulate beholders to delight;
Young womanhood, so very nearly found,
May move some boy one day to be a knight."

That's you, Elizabeth, so strong of mind
And creativity, that outward looks
Crept up like friendly ninjas from behind,
And sprang on you while you were reading books.

Now, dancing, sculling, or what else you do,
You're doomed, you know, to folks admiring you.
 
Back to new material.

How treacherous an aging body proves!
It's great at making snot, or passing gas;
But when you call for speed, it barely moves;
You want to work -- it wants a five-day pass.

It cries, "More protein!" Then, "I meant more carbs!"
Whichever thing you eat, it turns to fat.
However much the person fasts and starves,
That stomach just refuses to be flat.

The body wants to lounge around, then die,
While never having served. But it will face
The vengeance it deserves, up in the sky,
When, being made IMMORTAL by God's grace,

No more excuses will remain for it;
It will be FORCED forever to be fit!
 
Tomorrow, Tuesday, is my angiogram,
For which I probably will be put out.
I thus commend myself to Christ the Lamb,
And ask the Spirit to remove all doubt.

Though tendonitis cripples my right arm,
And shortened breath is high blood pressure's "gift,"
I ask that God will spare me still worse harm,
Because I feel I should live on, to lift

Bewildered souls from darkness and from angst.
If I'm to serve, my ticker mustn't quit;
So if there's no grave illness, I'll give thanks,
And see what I can do to get more fit.

No more French fries? At least no giant pack.
Must keep an eye on matters cardiac.
 
Copperfox said:
Tomorrow, Tuesday, is my angiogram,
For which I probably will be put out.
I thus commend myself to Christ the Lamb,
And ask the Spirit to remove all doubt.

Though tendonitis cripples my right arm,
And shortened breath is high blood pressure's "gift,"
I ask that God will spare me still worse harm,
Because I feel I should live on, to lift

Bewildered souls from darkness and from angst.
If I'm to serve, my ticker mustn't quit;
So if there's no grave illness, I'll give thanks,
And see what I can do to get more fit.

No more French fries? At least no giant pack.
Must keep an eye on matters cardiac.
Click to expand...
I'm praying for you, my spiritual father.
 
Peter and Anti-Peter: a Two-Volume Sonnet

Grandfathers, fathers, uncles, coaches, priests,
Big brothers, and all elder model males
Who have experience at slaying beasts,
Are useful for their own instructive tales.

No matter how girl-power types deny
The need for male examples, boys require
The guidance of an elder fellow guy
Who bids them struggle, venture, and aspire.

When Lewis wrote Prince Caspian, be sure
That Peter's role was crucial to the theme;
The reign of Caspian would have been poor
Without an elder knight to shape his dream.

Boys need a mentor, wise and resolute,
Who shows how to be strong, yet not a brute.



With Mister Lewis fifty years behind,
We now live in a time when empty wit
Claims wisdom, and the blind command the blind,
All fashionably dropping in the pit.

Peer pressure thinks it sits upon God's throne;
Scorns better knowledge, mocks the insight earned
By elders; honors glamour-types alone;
And that's why Andrew Adamson has turned

King Peter into just a teenage geek.
He wanted adolescent crowds to feel
That elder knights have nothing they should seek;
The heart of leadership is sex appeal.

With Caspian an uncorrected brat,
It's no surprise this movie fell down flat.
 
So glad your muse is awake again, Copperfox!
I too was put off by Peter's and Caspian's recasting in the film as petulant adolescents...

Hope your health is stabilizing and even improving from that in the 9/23 sonnet. Take care of yourself and your sweet Karoliina!
 
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