The Encyclopedia Sonnetica

Trumpet Cries

Trumpet Cries Our dreams are tinctured with divinity. A poet or a genius seizes them And recognizes their affinity To dawn.  A lover leans to touch the hem That passes by her in her crippled need. Philosophers, Hypatia-like, reveal Inherent beauties like a knowing...

The Window

          The Window The window, shining in an afternoon Long lost, a light of long lost boyhood day, Let in enough of childhood sun to spoon A beam of beauty for the lad.  The stray Shaft through abandoned panes was just enough. His eye fell on the toy soldiers there...

Love Making, in Tenses

  Love Making, in Tenses Yes, I believe in evolution.  That’s an Opening of something that is rolled Out, scroll-like; I have now become the man That mother’s egg and father’s seed foretold. Yes, everything I grew was first implied When one tailed sperm broke through...