A sheet of ice on black pavement gleaming
As frost, settled on shrubs, illuminates
A white powder morning and activates
The sound of grass, underneath feet, crunching.
I with my twin brother wander, beaming
Along the path untouched, to what fascinates
The mind of two children and resonates,
Bridging the gap between awake and dreaming.
For brief moments the world was fresh to learn,
The time spent knocking icicles from eaves.
I quickly learned how beauty chaps and cracks,
How frostbitten hands in cold water burn,
And nature, cruel and wonderful, deceives.
Its promises, as thin as ice, retract.
Thu 5th Feb 2015 15:32
this made me take a look at sonnet forms.
The rhyming of the first descriptive octet, and the reflective sextet mark it as Petrarchan.
However that `crunching` sticks out too much as a rhyme (the stress is naturally on the first syllable)
The `hard` words in the sexet have an apt brittleness about them which contrasts well with the longer `ing` words in the first part.
Good to see this.
Thu 5th Feb 2015 14:32
Lines that evoke the wonder of childhood
experience...living and learning that beauty
and hardship co-exist in this life.
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