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When in the dreary hour of decline
#1
A sonnet.

When in the dreary hour of decline
I sit and think on life’s untrodden ways,
And how they left, bereft of their sublime,
My sum of waking hours and all days;
When fond remembrances shall cease to bear
The yoke of blissful sleep, and every dream
Reveal thy comely countenance: I fear
The end of night, and dawn’s dispelling beam.
Thus like a weeping willow I becloud
My soul with tears. Yet do I tend a space
Where even silence seems too like a shroud
Of woe—And wistfully I lift my gaze
Above the emerald boughs, where skylarks play
In warbled rhymes, entreating me to stay.
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#2
(05-16-2009, 08:01 PM)adonais link Wrote:A sonnet.

When in the dreary hour of decline
I sit and think on life’s untrodden ways,
And how they left, bereft of their sublime,
My sum of waking hours and all days;
When fond remembrances shall cease to bear
The yoke of blissful sleep, and every dream
Reveal thy comely countenance: I fear
The end of night, and dawn’s dispelling beam.
Thus like a weeping willow I becloud
My soul with tears. Yet do I tend a space
Where even silence seems too like a shroud
Of woe—And wistfully I lift my gaze
Above the emerald boughs, where skylarks play
In warbled rhymes, entreating me to stay.

heh...your first few lines of rumination remind me of When I have Fears that I may Cease to Be by Keats.  Smile

Excellent sonnet.  I like the alliteration, imagery, internal rhymes, well-structured enjambment...and your innovative twist on Shakespearean sonnet, with the ebeb ff ending (instead of efef gg).

I'm curious how long this took to craft.  I see many "sonnets" cranked out...yet it always takes me considerable time to craft one (not that I could ever reach this level!).  Not only the skylarks, but I also entreat you to stay...and create more pieces of beauty!

Thank you.

--S
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#3
(05-16-2009, 08:59 PM)Sadstguy link Wrote:heh...your first few lines of rumination remind me of When I have Fears that I may Cease to Be by Keats.  Smile

Yep, you know your Keats.

I was very inspired by that poem and was trying to achieve a similar kind of rhythm. I don't remember how long I spent on this one, it is actually several years old; I was reminded of my old sonneteering days from your replies in your other thread. I think I worked on it for a couple of days, but I should have spent much longer of course, it is rather troubled in several places and could definitely have been written much better.

Oh well, I'm not pretending to be a real poet, I'm just a lowly poetaster  ;D
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#4
Wow that was very good. Poetry is so mysterious and difficult for me. I can manage Haiku, but a fluid, well structured sonnet feels like it takes some real technical skill. Hats off to you.
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#5
(05-16-2009, 09:11 PM)adonais link Wrote:I think I worked on it for a couple of days, but I should have spent much longer of course, it is rather troubled in several places and could definitely have been written much better.

Do you happen to know/recall who said that a good sonnet couldn't be written in less than a month, or something like that?
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#6
(05-17-2009, 12:49 AM)Sadstguy link Wrote:Do you happen to know/recall who said that a good sonnet couldn't be written in less than a month, or something like that?

I don't recall that, but I doubt it was Keats, considering his 15-minute sonneteering duel with Leigh Hunt in 1816, wherein he wrote the sonnet "On the Grasshopper and the Cricket".  ;D
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#7
(05-17-2009, 06:30 AM)adonais link Wrote:I don't recall that, but I doubt it was Keats, considering his 15-minute sonneteering duel with Leigh Hunt in 1816, wherein he wrote the sonnet \"On the Grasshopper and the Cricket\".  ;D

...thus demonstrating what a slacker he was, most of the time...  ;D

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#8
(05-16-2009, 08:01 PM)adonais link Wrote:A sonnet.

When in the dreary hour of decline
I sit and think on life’s untrodden ways,
And how they left, bereft of their sublime,
My sum of waking hours and all days;
When fond remembrances shall cease to bear
The yoke of blissful sleep, and every dream
Reveal thy comely countenance: I fear
The end of night, and dawn’s dispelling beam.
Thus like a weeping willow I becloud
My soul with tears. Yet do I tend a space
Where even silence seems too like a shroud
Of woe—And wistfully I lift my gaze
Above the emerald boughs, where skylarks play
In warbled rhymes, entreating me to stay.


That was very good..... Thank you so much for sharing..... My knowledge of poetry is extremely limited (by that I mean, about all I know about poetry I've seen in the movie Dead Poet's Society)...... It is lovely though and I thank you for sharing...... Please do share more (that goes for you as well Sads, and anyone else as well).....

Peace &  :ht:,
Jenni
The Eleventh Doctor: Nobody important? Blimey, that's amazing. You know that in nine hundred years of time and space and I've never met anybody who wasn't important before.
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#9
you're super,
please keep writing  :H:
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