Sunday Sonnet!

🦋

When in the quiet of my solitude,
Unshackled thoughts take flight to sites unknown,
No challenge can their energy denude,
Nor have they qualms wherever they are blown;
Such gay abandon bouys their boundless joy,
Like fearless birds of prey out on the wing;
None can their appetite for fun destroy,
Or prematurely shall them homeward bring;
Yet, when their haring spirits are well spent,
And flagging gaiety shall be no more,
Then rootedness to longing shall give vent,
Contentment to the reverie restore.
Breached reservoir of creativity,
Allows unbridled giftedness to be!

©Meanderings 2017

🦋

Sunday Sonnet!

🎶

Now that the sun has gone to take his rest,
And we have eaten our own evening meal,
We eagerly await our garden guest,
The little redbreast to bird-feeder steal;
While other feathered friends will come and go,
Throughout the day with little or no rest,
Our robin, at sunset, flies to and fro,
As though he comes to feed at our behest.
He sits on perch and lifts his handsome head,
I’m sure, he knows we’re watching from within,
He senses there is naught for him to dread,
Secure as he would be with kith and kin;
The mysteries of Nature none can plumb,
Replete with marvels rendering many dumb!

©Meanderings 2017

🎶

Sunday Sonnet!

🎀

They glide in numbers on the evening air,
Cavorting soundlessly with maven grace,
Their wavelike moves attest to artful flair,
Such aptitude none other can replace;
These master mariners one needs to see
In flight, their splendour to appreciate,
Their rhythmic dance induces reverie,
The most disturbing thought forms to sedate;
Observing grand display from where I sit,
Reclining in a chair in garden, still,
A thought occurs to me, may I submit,
These denizens perform, my heart to thrill;
The most banal of nature’s spectacle
Is pregnant with potential miracle!

©Meanderings 2017

🎀

Sunday Sonnet!

🎀

‘A little while and pain shall be no more,’
The still, small voice within me reassured;
Affliction wracked my being to the core,
Though signing not, ‘How much to be endured’;
Attended lovingly by caring hands,
The touch of which imbues internal toil
With hope, perdurable, that ne’er disbands,
So deeply rooted in the soul’s subsoil;
His quivering voice, adorned by faintest smile,
Bestirred the innards of a grateful heart;
Can mortal man survive such searing trial,
Enough to rent most powerful apart?
Belief translates impossible to be
A miracle for family to see!

©Meanderings 2017

🎀

Sunday Sonnet!

🎀

When we meander through our memories field,
Where shall we with capacious harvest start?
Which shall for us more wholesome profit yield,
Red, luscious cherries, sweet, or berries, tart?
Have we the joy to opt for either, or,
When, mindful of abundant fruits, we are
Confronted by the choice of neither, nor,
Firmly embedded like a fallen star?
All these are those whose provenance we share,
And for whose nurture we take full account,
How can we differentiation dare,
And not vain partiality surmount?
Regardless of their diverse quality,
Mem’ries embrace with equanimity!

©Meanderings 2017

🎀