Sonnettics

My Dragonfly is beautiful and free
Her wings are filled with color, warm and bright
No rainbow is more beautiful to me
I want to be beside her, in her flight
She flies to where her beauty can be seen
By those who need such beauty in their lives
She’s more than just some pretty figurine
The angels fold their wings when she arrives
I can’t believe I found her, and she’s real
Eternity’s too short to understand
But I don’t need to wait for what I feel
It’s Love, within the hollow of my hand
I see her, and I feel her, and I know
My Dragonfly is mine; she’ll never go.

I want to make you happy every day
I want to wake to nothing but your kiss
I want to be the reason that you say:
“I’ve never felt my goosebumps quite like this.
Come take me now; this prelude needs to end!”
I’ll take you, and your goosebumps will conclude
The “little death” will triumph and extend
The pleasure of a well-timed interlude
Extending the expressions of my heart
By making love is what I want to do
Your goosebumps are the signal at the start
Of feelings when I’m all alone with you.
I want your happiness to be extreme
And making love with you, a waking dream!

A few more days, just us, we’ll be alone
Imagine how togetherness will be
No kids, no friends, no Internet, no phone
It won’t be hard to generate tranquility
Tonight was hard, we needed to amend
Our nervousness within each other’s arms
A few more days before we get to spend
Our time enjoying one another’s charms
The way a violin enjoys a note
When generated by a master’s hand
As if we knew the music that we wrote
Was charming, just the way we’d always planned
Just us, together, harmonizing love
Togetherness is all I’m dreaming of.

Your laughter makes me horny, even though
You laugh because I’m such an easy mark
I’m hungry for your skin; I think you know
Your teasing lights emotions like a spark
Emotions from my hunger for your flesh
Escape from me as if I’ve lost control
I never knew your laughter could refresh
Emotions set ablaze within my soul!
I love it when you tell me: “bring it on!”
Although I’m miles away, you know I’m hot
Don’t think that you can tease until it’s gone
The shower may be cold, but girl, I’m not!
So laugh away!  A few more days, you’ll see
Just what your sexy laughter does to me!

I’ll kiss you in the morning, when you wake
I want to be a part of what you dream
The love you give is all I want to take
Your love, so soft and warm, becomes my theme
In morning, when your eyes begin to shine
I want to be reality to you
My heart is yours; I want yours to be mine
From heart to heart, the love we share is true
My love is yours; it lingers in my heart
I feel your love; it touches me so deep
I long for days when we are not apart
Where memories are made, I’ll always keep
Like kissing you in morning, when you rise
And seeing precious beauty in your eyes.

They’re words; they’re not designed to hurt or heal
I know some people frankly disagree
But that’s their right.  I guess some people feel
That words are more than words.  I just don’t see
Why what’s not North is often labeled “South”
I know “The truth is what happened,” I heard
“It ain’t what come out of somebody’s mouth.”*
I see no reason to give things a word
I know some people think more words are best
They use them in ways that boggles my mind
They decide to get them off of their chest
They put them in books that no one can find!
Feel free to read these words I choose to write
But if you’re burned, my words did not ignite!

*Cormac McCarthy, All The Pretty Horses

There’s nothing to expect; the twist is vast
It doesn’t mark its emptiness; it turns
To shine upon the shadow that’s been cast
By light which can’t be seen; perception burns
Within its motions, everything is still
Without its complex formulas it shows
Invisible reactions, as it will
Wherever it’s rejected, there it goes.
To comprehend the twist is life’s design
It is just like an artist who’s insane
Creating freedom so it can confine
The beauty it can feel with joyous pain
To know there’s nothing, one must coexist
With everything which turns within the twist.

She sees the words that float around my head
I think they fascinate her precious heart
She calls me when the girls are tucked in bed
The miles are there, but we are not apart
The only reason that the words can float
is not because I chose to put them there
They want to be composed into a boat
They want to take her safely, everywhere
My soul is like an ocean, vast and deep
I know it can be dangerous as well
My dreams are islands, when I’m fast asleep
My poems are the dreams I want to tell
She sees my words; she feels them when I write
I may not be her dreamboat, but I might!

To love, or not to love?  What a question!
‘Tis nobler in the heart to put aside
Outrageous questions, which should not be asked!
And by not asking, end them, answerless.
In loving dreams such silly questions come
No more; and by a dream to say we end
The headaches of a thousand stupid doubts.
‘Tis a consummation devoutly felt.
To live, to love. To love, perchance to dream.
For in these dreams of love, what life may come?
Fardels, quietus, or a bare bodkin?
Send these to an undiscovered country!
Fair girl!  Sweet thing, in thy supplications
Be all my pure love of you remembered.

Sonnetic Challenge:

I used the following famous soliloquy from Shakespeare’s Hamlet to create the preceding blank verse sonnet, a parody. My challenge to you: use this, or any other soliloquy as the base for building a sonnet.

The Tragical History of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark, act three, scene one:

To be, or not to be, that is the question:
Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die, to sleep,
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to: ’tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To die, to sleep;
To sleep, perchance to dream – ay, there’s the rub:
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause – there’s the respect
That makes calamity of so long life.
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely,
The pangs of disprized love, the law’s delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscovered country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment,
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action. Soft you now,
The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remembered.

I know your day was busy, fun, and long
I wish that I was there to be with you
I’d say “Goodnight” then sing a little song
A lullaby to say, “this day is through.”
Tomorrow you will have another day
Tomorrow will be busy, fun, and long
But rest must come before we go and play
Just like a tune must come before a song!
This lullaby will help relax your mind
Your dreams are waiting for your eyes to close
Within your dreams I know that you will find
The place of rest where everybody goes
Goodnight my precious princesses, go rest
Be peaceful; that’s the sleep that is the best.