a certain indefinite number of Petrarchan “sonnets”: №133

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 18 lines and an unorthodox rhyme-scheme is like a quartet with 6 members, though reproof is always welcome from anyone who feels so moved.

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A SPRING enclosed, a fountain shut inside
whose waters feed a plot immured by four
walls of thorn, which rows of roses, many-score
adorn, and by the fountain there I sit beside
behind these tortuous barricades that hide
my soul, for she has more than once before
been spurned and violated so therefore
resolved within this cloister to abide
where thorns stand guard against the world outside
in sanctuary with one bolted door
but all at once a lonely voice I heard
and then I felt a flutter in my heart
as something deep within my spirit stirred
I felt my fears like startled birds depart
as you, outside, pronounced the secret word
I saw how I had set myself apart
from love, and so I was to action spurred
to open the enclosure of my heart

Photo by Pascal Debrunner on Unsplash