From my 3rd-Floor Window

My dear friend D. said that I should write more sonnets, that we should have a renaissance of sonnets from 16th century English to modern words.  I don’t think I totally achieved that, but here’s Sonnet #2.  (Mom, I know you’re not a fan of Sonnets, so I’ll do another poem for you, soon!)

From my 3rd-Floor Window

The maple finally bursts and seed pods bloom.

All different greens, and flower buds spring forth,

On different shrubs and trees.  The cold brown earth

Lets go its captives from the winter gloom.

And from my window ‘bove the parking lot,

The place I sit and try to write these rhymes,

I close my eyes, and think of other times

When  warmth returned, for in my wand’ring thought

The flow’rs, the grass, the sun, the moon, the wave,

Create a vision lovely in my eyes,

Until I’ve had my fill of them.  I rise

And come back to my still and quiet cave.

But surely, in my mind and heart I’ll keep

This picture, when the winter snows are deep.

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8 responses to “From my 3rd-Floor Window

  1. Yes, yes YES!!!!! I really think this is your poetic form (or one of them!!)
    I love the way a sonnet holds itself together. I think it is the unexpected rhyming pattern. I may have to try a crack at one. You could be starting a movement!

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