pearls

Afterthought 623—A Song for Him

Posted in quatrain by maggie on 2016/01/24

Makes nothing much a difference to me
one way or your way, be it chance or whim,
if anything I'd show you's what you'll get to see
except what about him?

I knew all along we wouldn't last
later than two, maybe three, surely no more,
so before our morning's calling gets itself cast
aside, what was he for?

Makes nothing much a reason or a rhyme
how free it must feel to you so off on your own
kept up by your place in life keeping time
until you have his alone.

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Afterthought 262—Skerwink Trail

Posted in curtal sonnet by maggie on 2015/06/28

Trinity's waters embrace the rocks, whip
salt and sage into crowberry and Tuckamore
to perfume our reverent steps into her wild.

Without Dean I'd not've made it.  My hip
would've kept me from what we're here for —
to make it where the Music Box stands piled.

Otters!—yes, we saw them, like was said
we might.  And dolphins close to the shore!
No poetry could've been more perfectly styled.

Next year, you.  Join us at Sherwink's Head,
                      you and the child.


Afterthought 173—A Doppelgänger’s Complaint

Posted in sonnet by maggie on 2015/05/09

If I possessed such magic as might weave
vibrations through the wind such as dare dance
the stars through myths and legends we believe,
my spells would cast our night its own romance
in gold and silver circles wrapped in ice
as delicate as light's transparent veil
revealing word in love's most secret vice
and love retracing blood's worst wayward trail.  

I don't. The surest song I try to raise
falls flat, chokes on its bone, avoids
its own reflection, pastes in hoary grays
on grays, finds beauty in its hemorrhoids. 

Obloquy suits the ear, no?  Let each word
be child unknown, unwritten and unheard. 
 

Afterthought 27—Encomia

Posted in villanelle by maggie on 2014/12/18

No word or act you've done is meant for ill —
who tells else traps herself in her own lies.
To yours thrice flow your blessings, as you will.

Every promise made you will fulfill.
Who turns away your honor turns unwise —
no word or act you've done is meant for ill.

No miracle desired's outside your skill —
who mocks can't know the magic in your eyes.
To yours thrice flow your blessings, as you will.

Unfailing — whom you first loved is loved still —
who chooses else accepts false compromise.
No word or act you've done is meant for ill.

The life in you's impossible to kill —
who wishes not finds only empty skies.
To yours thrice flow your blessings, as you will.

Your word stands sure beyond the last until —
who won't accept you's gone before she dies.
No word or act you've done is meant for ill —
To yours thrice flow your blessings, as you will.
 
 

Protected: Overdraft 68—Darkest Dawn

Posted in crown of sonnets, curtal sonnet by maggie on 2013/03/17

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Protected: Overdraft 50—Sweet Tooth

Posted in crown of sonnets, curtal sonnet by maggie on 2013/02/28

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Protected: Overdraft 47—Wrong Sides

Posted in crown of sonnets, curtal sonnet by maggie on 2013/02/25

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Protected: Overdraft 19—Allie’s Veil

Posted in crown of sonnets, curtal sonnet by maggie on 2013/01/31

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Protected: Overdraft 18—Blue Muse

Posted in crown of sonnets, curtal sonnet by maggie on 2013/01/30

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