poetry, Writing

Sonnet V – Season of Love

Season Of Love–Sonnet 5 © 1998 Karen Vertigan

Previously published material.  
Cannot be reproduced with the written permission from the author.

By the gods, a frost.  An age has crept by 
More swiftly than Hermes’ winged passage. 
And shadows grow in strength and depth and height. 
Time chills the meadows of tattered spring blossoms.

By the gods, snowfall comes.  An age has begun. 
Recall the season of Demeter’s tears 
And dry leaves are rushed across stone paths 
And down the lane that leads to you… and love.

Forget all the deadly storms that threaten 
To encompass the heart of the goddess: 
That briefly touched the soul of the flower.

It is the moment of crystal clock works 
That chime to announce a cycle of spring 
And foretell of hope’s bright flight to Love’s house 

And it dwells within the heart of roses. 
By the gods, Love arrives to embrace the time.

Photo by Kyle Sudu on Unsplash

poetry, Writing

Sonnet IV – Fairy Spring Song

Karen Vertigan © 2001

Spring explodes in rapturous dainty trills
And glorious flowers.  It has begun, 
The season of beginning, with dales and hills
Dressed in the blanket of fairy fun.

Sun sets on the last chill eve of winter.
The promise of plenty and kind beauty 
Is o’er the world when the dawn enters 
With blazing brass and boundless bounty.

Softly, the voices arise, like the first bright 
Lark song when it meets heavens bowers. 
Ever more gentle, caressing and light 
Fairies dance among the tiny flowers.

If this be spring, living in beauty bright, 
Blossoms chase away the deepening night.

Photo by Renee Fisher on Unsplash

poetry, Writing

Sonnet II — For My Friend

© copyright 2000 Karen Vertigan

When lost in moments of deep silent thought
I conjure up dreams that Time has erased 
And remember all the angry words wrought
By my witch’s heart in torment encased.

White water rapids are green eyes blue 
For precious friends hidden deeply inside 
And weep anew with each tender new clue 
Time old, but recalled, still wanting to hide.

A heavy grief felt for those not forgiven 
And heavier still, their innocence abounds. 
In thought revived, reminded, and enlivened 
And my mind and soul, the anguish surrounds.

But for a while, I think on you, dear friend      
All losses restored and all sorrows end.

Photo by Anthony Tran on Unsplash