a certain indefinite number of Petrarchan “sonnets”: №104
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 15 lines and an unorthodox rhyme-scheme is like a quartet with 5 members, though reproof is always welcome from anyone who feels so moved.
NOVEMBER sunlight glints upon your eye
reminding him of what he used to know
before the Northern winds began to blow
bescattering those memories awry
like amber leaves first framed against the sky
then fallen to the sullen earth below
that just emerged not very long ago
when the world was young and love could never die
into the lion’s den you bravely stepped
my stare unwav’ring fixed itself on you
but secret courage in your heart was kept
that to my eye was ever bright and true
and though in nights of sorrow, tears you wept
yet all this time, and all these trials through
I’ve always known that you’re a lion too
