Thursday, March 29, 2007

#340: March 29, 2007

All nature is a harlequin today:
its motley-colored cloak patched green and brown
is trimmed in gold and lined in thunder gray;
it twirls and dances till the sun goes down

While birds like thrown knives cut against the breeze,
their shadows whizzing past like tiny clouds,
and stick vibrating in the trunks of trees
to awe spectators gathered now in crowds;

It juggles sunspots dazzling to the eye
and whispers verse in greenbranch-rattling rhyme,
and when the daylight bleeds out of the sky,
it tips its tri-corn hat to scoundrel Time

And exits like some poor vagabond king,
exiled, but noble and uncowed--ah, Spring!


Mister Micawber said...

I have, purely by chance, stumbled upon your blog today-- No. 340-- and am in uttermost awe. I doff my hat.

Looks like I have a lot of reading to do.

Sincere congratulations,

Mister Micawber

Sonnet Boy said...

Thanks for dropping by and commenting! It has been a lot of work, and now that I'm so close to my goal, I'm starting to wonder if I'll be able to stop. :)

If you do decide to read the rest, please remember the working philosophy: if 90% of everything is crap, then maybe I've got 33 to 35 good sonnets in among the chaff. What I mean is, they ain't all gems. :)

ThatGreenyFlower said...

Captures this place in the springtime! Good on ya!