Friday, November 5, 2010

Joseph

This sonnet doesn't follow iambic pentameter as it should, but I like it the way it is. I thought of the title, Joseph, one night and felt compelled to write it for my sonnet assignment. I wanted it to just be something beautiful, as the way the name Joseph sounds. I'm debating whether or not to continue with a series...


I met you on one moonlit starless night,
Sweetheart, Sweetheart, Sweetheart, I'm dreaming dear,
As with that first kiss did my heart ignite,
As you whispered serenades in my ear.
What childish memories lay behind these walls
Of our crude forts made of blanket and snow,
Where those pale em'ralds into me would fall
Down the curve of my spine, cool and low.
Such fie'ry red fever this rose did bud,
Come to me, I'll soak you in like sweet death
Your slow poison curdling inside my blood
You, a virus, you'll consume my last breath.
Joseph Joseph, my sweet, where have you gone,
Joseph Joseph, my sweet, it's been too long.


Copyright Christine Locke

No comments:

Post a Comment