Sonnets Here, In-House

Copperfox said:
Sonnet No. 1 for Shannon White


God never let me be a macho man;
It feels as if He loves to laugh at me.
I did some good for Mary and for Jan,
Because it could be non-combatively.

Humiliation, for no reason, thrives
Throughout my life; but at the festival,
I was reminded that I'm still alive,
And that God's plan may still prove best of all.

You first appeared in search of Christian aid
In matters of the faith; I did my best.
Two weeks went by before I saw displayed
Your female charm, your humor, grace and zest.

You've started something, Shannon; where it leads
Depends on God's best will for both our needs.
Click to expand...



I really like this one, it is very good.
 
Sonnet No. 2 for Shannon White


I haven't eaten breakfast as I write;
You know how you make me forget my meals.
A man who sees the hope of love in sight
May hurry to express the way he feels,

To such extent as really not to eat
Until he puts in words what's on his heart.
My Shannon, you at once are strong and sweet,
And since, to me, you are a work of art,

Expect me to keep writing verse for you!
Just yesterday, we had pragmatic talk
About God's will for what we are to do;
But meanwhile, every time we take a walk,

The perfect fit that your hand makes in mine
Makes it my duty to compose a rhyme.
 
Ahhhh how sweet!
I'm sure Shannon will be blessed, delighted and impressed by your poems for her...

Also I say a heartily "Amen!!!!" to your sonnet to Lynna:

I do say, though, that _sometimes_ girls' desires

Are satisfied with what no man can do;
They hatch their hawks, and launch them in the blue
--------------------------
Lynna,
Your sonnet is Magnificent!
 
Last edited:
Sonnet No. 3 for Shannon


Well, danged if I'm not doing it again!
That is, a sonnet writ before I eat.
I revel in the fact that, of all men,
I am your object for the words "You're sweet."

And bragging rights! With Mary and with Jan,
I was too slow in speaking openly;
But since their times, I've turned a wiser man--
So this time, "I love you" came first from me!

I mentioned the old hit "September Song,"
While wearing Loggins and Messina's shirt.
Your cat felt that my presence wasn't wrong,
And teaching you some Russian didn't hurt.

If God is NOT intent that we be wed,
He's running out of time to get it said!
 
Sonnet No. 4 to Shannon,
_mostly_ straight-faced


Betrothal calls for introductions made,
And I've met much of Shannon's family;
But my own family has widely strayed
Across a continent; moreover, she

Must meet not just my relatives by birth
And by adoption--there are many more!
We'd have to fly like Puck around the Earth
To meet all whom I claim by metaphor.

She's met Sonata from The Dancing Lawn.
This week she mingled with my Ren-Fair crowd.
And Timbalionguy, before he's gone,
Will get to see why Shannon has me wowed.

So many introductions not to miss!
Yet she and I still must find time to discuss the current status of the stock market
and real-estate investments. ;):p​
 
Sonnet No. 5 to my Shannon


This time not food, but sleep, shall be delayed,
In order that a sonnet be produced;
I speak of the foundation that we laid,
To give our love's endurance a good boost.

Right from the get-go, it was plain and clear
That we must candidly negotiate
Potential conflicts of what each holds dear,
Not leave them unaddressed until too late.

It has paid off; you know just what I mean.
We both have passed the be-a-grownup test.
Where teenyboppers would have made a scene,
We made an issue turn out for the best.

More sure than ever, now, our true love stands;
We'll celebrate, cough cough, by shaking hands.
 
This time postponing SUPPER

Sonnet No. 6 for Shannon


Alongside my garage, a bit of room
Is taken by day lilies. Recently,
I saw two lilies open in full bloom;
One less than halfway open made it three.

The symbolism wasn't hard to find:
The opened ones are Mary, and then Jan.
These loves both lived their God-allotted time,
While now, the one beginning its own span

Can only be my Shannon. At this end,
We can't predict how long she'll bloom for me,
Or I for her. But being more than friend,
I'll ride with her toward eternity.

Whichever gets there first, I doubt it not
That God will give the perfect garden spot.


EDIT: Since posting the above, I have looked outside at the lily patch again. What seems to be the barely-opened lily from the poem is now fully open, while the "past" lilies are gone.
 
Last edited:
Sonnet No. 7 for Shannon


The closing day of RenFest was at hand!
My lady shared her fish and chips with me.
We strolled the distance that the village spanned,
And spoke of married life so soon to be.

To start, she had put on a full-length dress;
But later changed to modern clothes with shorts.
This emphasized her true athletic-ness,
And made her seem two women of two sorts.

One man saw her as that, and then as this;
He thought I must be someone really slick,
To have on one day, two fine dames to kiss;
I had to clarify: I'm not THAT quick!

My Shannon, in one frame, is many things;
And will continue so as we trade rings.
 
To A Cluttered World


Bank statements, underwear, tomato cans,
Old envelopes, and socks that lost their mates:
All these, like sands of time, run through my hands,
But time to clean them up just never waits.

For someone who, till recently, had none
To love him in the way he's wishing for,
I certainly have been kept on the run,
These years while Jan's been on the farther shore.

Folks want attention--sometimes money, too;
Above all, time! It all gets gobbled up!
My house attests to what I fail to do;
The whole big wreck is fused in one great lump!

However, love, you can't fix this for me;
I must myself defeat this anarchy.
 
An Ode To Stupid People


Fall off both sides of Martin Luther's horse;
Bring fire extinguishers when there's a flood;
Let blind emotions navigate your course;
Be washed, but jump right back into the mud.

Be harsh when people need a gentle touch;
Be soft when what they need is firm reproof;
Do more of what's already done too much;
Exalt your self-esteem above God's truth.

Say "Lean not on your understanding," then
Start leaning on whatever impulse comes;
Pretend you're high above the thoughts of men,
While really marching to emotion's drums.

You think you've won the contest from the start,
Since, like all fools, you're following your heart.
 
Back
Top