a certain indefinite number of Petrarchan “sonnets” (25)
Ordinarily I don’t publish so much poetry at Theoria-press, and instead try to provide mostly essays with an odd poem or sonnet occasionally interspersed among them. But the Muse’s visits have outstripped my ability to keep pace with prose pieces so readers who prefer essays should peruse the archives of this site, which are replete with them. Also, I should acknowledge that the formal aspect of this “Petrarchan sonnet” is liberally conceived so it’s unnecessary to alert me that at “Petrarchan sonnet” with 19 lines is like a quartet with 5 members, though criticism and rebuke is always welcome from anyone who feels so moved.
OH she doth teach the torches to burn bright!
I see her marble face and shining half-moon eyes
sparkling like stars set into pastel skies
that glint as gemstones laid in sands of white
diamond, sapphire, opal, and erenite
caressed by ocean waves that fall and rise
or rivers flowing out of Paradise
that roll, cascade, and tumble to alight
upon her shoulders where they pause their flight
but from their perch again from thence arise
as chestnut tresses that fret her neck, from there
again towards Heaven gently find their way
like smoke of incense rising in the air
to curl about her comely cheeks till they
are lost to sight atop their spiral stair
above the vaulted dome, above the fray
having cast off all besetting weight and care
and everything preventing them to stay
in eternity as a child at play
