a summer-song decade

soft wrinkled forehead as you play the flute
and colored landscapes peeled of misty shade
while contours from gray shacks and alleys fade,
the noise & busy city life drops mute,
you guide me– on the undiscovered route.
we stride towards a stranger’s land and trade
all that was ours, a summer-song decade
descends in circles, circles from the root

how can you play approaching nights away–
soft flavored sound will patch the present dark,
exploring foreign lands on hidden roads
and enter empty trails left to decay,
ships full of spices calling to embark
towards the south, the south we slowly float


Gay has us writing Sonnets at dVerse today..mine is a Petrarchan Sonnet… I’m on a business trip all week…so posting this in a hurry but just didn’t want to miss it…smiles…my commenting back will be a bit delayed though…


43 responses to “a summer-song decade

  1. i really love all the texture you get into this claudia….very descriptive…the colored landscapes against the gray shacks…really like the turn line or question as well in this….great sonnet…i am intimidated…smiles.

  2. Perfect! Your voice shines through and you mold the form to fit it with your perfect choice of words. The volta makes the proper turn in the first line (L9) of the sestet and the summertimes pour out all over the page. Precise and beautiful!

  3. As usual … I’m totally intimidated by your poetry, C … but then I’m not, because I’m strong … I think … hard to explain … anyway … somehow we are sisters … I know that much … Love you, cat.

  4. “while contours from gray shacks and alleys fade, the noise & busy city life drops mute” … As usual, beautiful contrast & imagery Claudia.

  5. Excellent, I love the challenge of writing a sonnet, the discipline of expressing yourself in 140 syllables with a set rhyming scheme is wonderful and a great exercise for any poet, thanks as always, Kevin

  6. Claudia, this is brilliant! As l was reading it l was thinking how am l going to write anything with the quality and gravitas of this poem. True quality, a joy to read, thank you.

  7. “how can you play approaching nights away–” Is this a question, exclamation, accusation, or acceptance? It has a studied ambivalence and arbitrariness given the first 8 lines of indulgence in love and loveliness. I fear “we” traded too much–“soft wrinkled forehead” for “soft flavored sound”! But patching and floating continue, so I draw in my breath too quickly. All is well.

  8. I read this, and then the Phantom starts singing in my head…

    “Floating, falling, Sweet Intoxication
    Touch me, trust me, savor each Sensation
    Let the dream begin, Let your darker side give in
    To the Power of the music that I write,
    The Power of the Music of the Night!”

  9. There was a time when I used to eat, breathe, and dream in iambic pentameter. I wrote reams of sonnets. I wrote none like this. I became an editor of sonnets (one time Associate Editor of ‘Sonnetto Poesia’ magazine, currently on the editorial team of ‘The Phoenix Rising from the Ashes’, a major anthology of 21c sonnets). None like this ever came to me for selection.

    The keys to successful sonnet-writing are firstly not to forget what poetry is, secondly not to forget what poetry is for, and thirdly not to let the sonnet form dictate to the poem. At least not to much.

    But then I don’t have to tell you that. Obviously.


  10. A little song you’ve certainly made this, Claudia, and I enjoyed it very much. It’s full of interest and intrigue and is true to the form. If you’re rushing off on a business trip, that’s a remarkable result!

  11. Don’t know how you do it. You write such a beautiful sonnet while on the road. Words just flow through your entire being and it’s as if you just activate them effortlessly. You are special and blessed Claudia.

    Have a good trip.

  12. Wow, this is so fun learning about Sonnets. May I ask, how did you choose Petrarchan vs Spenserian vs Shakespearian as a form for your sonnet?

    That was a fun vision of darkness setting in (?right) while you travelled in a foreign land. Is there an intended metaphor in this style?

    Thanx for you comment on my sonnet.