One day I'll Write a Sonnet

[Dennis N O'Brien]

One Day I'll Write a Sonnet (sonnet #8) (As a response to a question about sonnets by Stephen Whiteside)

I hope to write a sonnet one fair day.
Iambic pentameter I am told,
As mastered by the famous bards of old,
Is also how they must be writ today.
With fourteen lines of such the proper way,
For little else will fit the sonnet mould,
For if one wishes for poetic gold,
Attention to the rules ‘tis best to pay.

Of course the rhyming structure one may change,
To suit the English or Italian ears;
I read the sonnets of my friends and peers,
And variously, they their words arrange,
And some I find will move me close to tears
But others I must say I find quite strange.

© Dennis N. O'Brien, 2012

[Rimeriter]

Requires much dedication and concentration, I suspect.

Much more so than 'free' verse.
Jim.

[Dennis N O'Brien]

Yeah free verse is a bit like free advice Jim - usually worth about as much.

[Bob Pacey]

I always thought FREE VERSE was the stuff you did not pay for ???


Bob

[David J Delaney]

Pretty good sonnet Dennis, very similar to a Francesco Petrarch style.....

[Dennis N O'Brien]

Thanks David - yes the first sonnet I wrote I just copied the rhyming
pattern from one and as it turned out it was an Italian sonnet.
Since then I've written some English ones as well which are easier I think.
They're fun to write, maybe more "bush" poetry could be written as sonnets.
Kendall wrote quite a few of them apparently.

[David J Delaney]

G'day Dennis, here a 2 of mine with a 'bush' flavour....(-:



Sonnet no.3

Snowy Mountain Blood

He views the brumbies fleeing down the hill
while now he’s chasing, closing at great pace.
And knowing that one slip out here could kill,
he can’t afford a tumble or lose face.
The cracking stockwhip sounded as he cheered
it echoed through the valley far below.
These Queensland mountains many have revered,
though riders died when footings lost would throw.
Remembers how the man rode snowy’s side,
his father told the story long ago.
And how his heart beat hard with so much pride,
it was his Granddad dealt the best a blow.
He fronts the mob and halts them with one crack!
now with them all defeated, drives them back.


David J Delaney
27/11/2009 ©

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Sonnet no. 2

A Stockman’s Passing

He sleeps beneath the trees in battered swag
while cattle doze not far from where he lies.
As other stockmen camp nearby and brag,
this old man loves the quiet, star-lit skies.
He knows his life is nearly at an end,
but once again, his mind drifts back to her.
That past event he still can’t comprehend;
the deadly fire to him is still a blur.
For twenty years he's droved the mobs alone,
though with his working mates he's moved along;
Within his mind her ghostly figure's shone,
for twenty years she's sung their wedding song.
A new dawn breaks, but still the old man lies;
Together now they walk beneath clear skies.


David J Delaney
24/11/2009 ©

[Dennis N O'Brien]

Very good David - both very good indeed - enjoyed reading them.

[Rimeriter]

"Thanks" David.
More please, as time permits.
Jim.

[thestoryteller]

Well David you can say I've been there and done that.

Enjoyed the read.


Merv.