Sonnettics

At times, events are human, words divine
At times we must declare the words we feel
The laws of Nature’s God and man’s align
When justice is declared and words appeal

Self-evident are truths declaring rights
Of Liberty and Life, and the pursuit
Of Happiness. Come celebrate these lights
Endowed on all. Such points are never moot

America was born, July the fourth
Two-hundred years ago and thirty-six
United then, united now, henceforth
Forever, Independence Day depicts

The way a prudent people claim their right
They use their words and if they must, they fight!

Read by Scott Ennis

For my daughter, Susanna Hope Ennis, SHE is the Lily

I.

Our yard was just a wide and empty field
I knew its hidden seeds, one day would grow
I wondered what surprise our yard concealed
Would flowers sprout in Spring? I didn’t know

The winter snow was cold; the ground was hard
I hoped a flower’s seed was underneath
I wanted pretty flowers in our yard
The kind that barren, winter fields bequeath

When springtime’s warmth made water from the ice
The seeds below the ground would swell and sprout
The warmth of springtime’s sun was more than nice
Warm sunshine is what springtime’s all about!

Our field was wide, but filled with hidden seeds
And from each seed, the gift of life proceeds.

II.

I’m just a seed; I have no stalk, no root
I want the sun to kiss my first green leaf
The earth is where I want to sprout my shoot
If life is growth, I hope it isn’t brief!

I want to grow and greet greet each day, alive!
I feel the life inside me and around
I want all things around my home to thrive
Regardless of the cold and snowy ground!

I want to be a flower, bright and pure
I want to be the flower in my heart
I know I’ll be a flower; that’s for sure
I hope my colors live in someone’s art

The warmth and light of sun are what I need
My colors are inside; I’m just a seed!

III.

I see the sun! I’ve sprouted from the field
I’m green, just like the others all around
Ten thousand of us must have been concealed
Beneath this wide expanse of snowy ground!

We’re rising fast to greet the blessed sun!
We love her warmth and light with all our hearts
It’s true, our blessed lives have just begun
But simple things sometimes have blessed starts!

Like her, the sun, she rises every day
A simple sunrise starts the day off right
And yet her simple action is the way
We live within her warmth and blessed light!

From tiny seeds, the sun invites us out
Each one of us is proud to be a sprout!

IV.

My stem is strong; I’m more than just a sprout
I’m growing strong within this field of friends
Our strength is what our growing is about
We’ll all grow strong with strength that never ends!

I want to grow as strong as I can be
I want to hold my head up to the sky
I want my friends to be as tall as me
If I grew any taller, I could fly!

My stem’s as strong as roots that hold me up
My roots provide my stem with nourishment
Much more than just a sip from some small cup
I drink the water that the rain has sent

It makes my stem much stronger than a sprout
Such strength is what my growing’s all about.

V.

My leaves come next to gather precious light
I gather from the sunlight up above
My leaves know how to gather what is bright
The sunlight I enjoy is like pure love.

My leaves absorb the sunlight from the sun
Then send it down my stem; it keeps me warm
It helps to feed my roots, which have begun
To keep me grounded when the sky-clouds storm

I love my leaves; they wave in breezy ways
I love the way they feel like arms or wings
I love the sound they make on wind days
They like to dance and yes, they like to sing

And still they gather sunlight as they sway
The light becomes the love that they display.

VI.

Atop my stem, above my leaves, I feel
My bulb; it’s full of petals, colored bright
The brightly colored petals can’t conceal
The joy I dreamed within them, every night!

My bulb is like a seed that hides a song
A cloud that holds a rainbow in the sky
I hope my dreams will let me sing along
The rainbowed cloud will join us, by and by

Within my bulb, a folded flower waits
It waits until it’s time for it to show
To show the beauty that my field creates
The reason why the hidden seeds all grow.

I feel anticipation as I wake
And see the bulbous strength my field can make.

VII.

My bulb unfolds as gently as the sun
With glory in the color it displays
The glory of my growth is nearly done
Although my growth goes on, its glory stays

VIII.

Lilies of the Field

This sequence is based on a biblical allusion to Matt. 6

Much more than just some actor on a stage
You’ll be a dad forever; that’s the truth
I’ll always find your timely wisdom, sage
A treasure that I found while in my youth

I love the wisdom that my father shares
He teaches me what strength and love are for
I know he isn’t perfect, but he cares
He gives me all he has, then gives me more!

I hope that I can be as sage as him
The Wise Old Owl in fatherly disguise
I hope such wisdom fills me to the brim!
I want to overflow with words so wise!

Such thoughts of you, forever make me glad
I’m happy for such thoughts, Forever Dad.

Forever Dad, read by Scott Ennis

*For my Father

I am a word, define me if you must
I’m just this guy who seeks to know himself
True, Thou art God, thus in thy word I trust
Your word and I are books upon a shelf

Come read me and define me, soon or late
Perceived, I come to be the guy I am
Though not to be might also be my fate
If you perceive me not, who gives a damn

The oracle at Delphi let me know
That I must know myself before I seek
To know the future paths I seek to go
The future words I want to write or speak

Perceive me not; I couldn’t give a damn
I’m just this guy you know; it’s who I am.

Life’s Peace is like a gentle, cooing dove
The Giver of Life’s gift can give Peace, too
Such Peacefulness of Life is filled with Love
Life’s Love is heard within the Peaceful coo

The Gift of Life is given, full and free
My thanks go to the Giver of this Gift
I’m glad for all the peaceful doves I see
They bring me hope that makes my spirit lift!

The hope of life resides in every choice
In every choice I make, I hope I’m right!
I love the sound of hope within my voice
It rises as the doves of Peace take flight

I love the Gift of Life that I’ve received
I’m thankful for the Peace that I’ve achieved.

(Originally entitled The Gift of Life) and posted on April 29, 2012.

The Gift of Life is given, full and free
My thanks go to the Giver of this Gift
I often like to fill it with esprit
It comes with hope that makes my spirit lift!

The hope of life resides in every choice
In every choice I make, I hope I’m right!
I love the sound of hope within my voice
It rises as the doves of Peace alight

Life’s Peace is like a gentle, cooing dove
The Giver of Life’s gift can give Peace, too
Such Peacefulness of Life is filled with Love
Life’s Love is heard within the Peaceful coo

I love the Gift of Life that I’ve received
I’m thankful for the Peace that I’ve achieved.

Two dolphins dancing above the blue bay,
So charming in their tandem arc through space.
Their romance proceeds, like a game they play,
Becoming lost in their mystical grace.

Felicity’s rapture goes on for miles,
Which may never be pinioned or restrained.
Though faint, forever is brought to their smiles.
Such happiness should at no time be chained.

Dark waters turn, twist, twirl and deeply scare,
Where looming disaster can take one’s breath.
They fight the crusade and then they take care
Of little love who must not come near death.

Struggle and sputter through down pouring rains,
Adoration still pumps in their warm veins.

That sonnet was written by a “student.” The following is an email dialogue I had with a this young lady who needed to write a sonnet. I helped her where I could, and I think she composed a beautiful sonnet about two dolphins. As you can see, she gave me permission to share our dialogue here so that others might learn from it. Thanks Arlayna!

Read the rest of this entry »

It’s dark and I am walking toward the night.
The streets are slick with rain and heavy mist
I only see reflections of the light
which blends into the asphalt, which is kissed
by songs too cheap and tawdry for the day,
whose melodies are flickering and cold.
And yet they’re loud enough to guide the way
into the dark of night, where I am told
that god no longer hears my footsteps fall
and I no longer care if god can hear,
because my soul has heard another call
that has no need of faith; it’s loud and clear.
It pierces me with certainty. My breath
is measured now. The call is simply death.

Minor changes.
First Published below on Nov 20, 2008

It’s dark and I am walking toward the night.
The streets are slick with mists and heavy sighs.
I only see reflections of the light
which blends into the asphalt, the reprise
of songs too cheap and tawdry for the day,
whose melodies are flickering and cold.
And yet they’re loud enough to guide the way
into the dark, the night, where I am told
that god no longer hears my footsteps fall
and I no longer care if god can hear,
because my soul has heard another call
that has no need of faith; it’s loud and clear.
It pierces me with certainty. ; My breath
is measured now. ; The call is simply death.

Confirm my hands again and let me hold
Your confirmation’s quintessential heat
Confirm my heart with tales of love retold
With words your confirmation would repeat
Address your love to me a silent vow
Semantic dissipation laced with tears
Stand closely by my window in the now
And tap upon the glass a thousand years
And I will watch your lamplight like a dream
That casts its glow upon my steady hands
To see your confirmation brightly beam
And echo shadows of my love’s demands
To touch the words my thoughts have long transgressed
And place my subtle tears upon your breast

First Published on: Apr 6, 2006

There are no words. The air, as thin as lines
composed of quintessential, distant dreams
is probably the path, devoid of signs
which flows beside our quintessential streams.
There are no words; The paths and streams converge.
A prophecy of silence draws me in.
Surrender is the quintessential urge
that marks the end where thus I can begin.
The words that form are beautiful and bright
like pearls and diamonds strung on silver thread.
They sparkle in the quintessential night
that quintessential darkness overhead.
And in the quiet birth of every word
a hint of quintessential faith is heard.

First published on: Jan 4, 2008 @ 21:17
(minor grammatical changes)

Tonight a small gray bird lay at my door
An omen in the way its feet were curled
It sang at dawn but won’t sing anymore
So, one more song is taken from the world
I wonder if god watched it as it died
Received its soul, its song, with loving grace
I wonder if the cat had been denied
If half the world would now be out of place
Irreverently, I kicked the bird away
To where it would be eaten by the ants
And only vaguely wondered when my day
Would dawn to such a common circumstance
I spent the night in quiet reverie
And stroked the cat which slept upon my knee

First Published on: Sep 16, 2008 @ 6:57