On the hilltop, over the conifers
Snowflakes float under chromium sky,
The night freezes and a lone wolf howls
The stars cascade on my chilled edifice!
My old rose lips sip the last few drops
of the Argentum of the molten Moon,
Beyond the horizon, playing Vaudeville
The juvenile dawn and the dying Moon!
The Cuculus sings and the summer calls
But I step back to the dark, to the cold,
Back to the howls, to the million stars
Back to the ice perennially blued!
The moon resurrects, I probe its craters
Ah! I dreamed ’bout the stolen winters!
Helluva! Talking of Summers is profanity. The Sun is incandescent like never before. It beats down embers on the erstwhile searing Earth with fiery intensity . The mercury shoots up to 48°C. However, I felt the chill in my spines…..My AC was set on 11°C . Hence, I dreamt about the Frozen Moon and a couple of stolen wintry nights. Icy were those sweet dreams, summer is indeed a nightmare….
It’s a classic English Sonnet which, coincidentally follows nearly all rules of a Shakespearean or Elizabethan Sonnet. 10/9 syllables in almost all lines, an Iambic Pentameter reinforced (unintended) and the rhyme scheme of Abab… Cdcd… Efef… Gg makes my poem pertinent enough to be an unabashed SONNET….
Discover more from The Style Symphony
Subscribe to get the latest posts to your email.
Knowing now the technicalities of creating a Sonnet .. I say it is quite a feat to write beautifully and with structure.
Thank you so much for always reading and appreciating, Preeti! Means much! <3