Septonisque

what they need is
nine, so, don't leave it at eight
it lacks the hour of one
do not be too early then
or too late
cater to what is required
otherwise it makes no sense
what is needed is nine
though ten is kind

by RIC BASTASA

Comments (8)

I am all in favor of poets at play with words like they're fingerpaints: - - - -A deep, delicious hush - - - - - - - - -The morn has been a feverish, restless thing - - - - - - - -the pulse of Summer ran too high- - - - - - - - - -as an o'erjoyed child may cease to sing- - - - - - - - - -A loathful silence wherein all sounds fail - - - -Like loitering sounds of some roundelay... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Lovely words, lovely sounds, lovely images
Simply a Superb Sonnet!
The morn has been a feverish restless thing In which the pulse of summer ran too high Simply superb imagery displayed in this fantastic poem. Thanks for sharing it here,
Wonderfully sculptured piece of work.
Awesome poem and you deserve this POTD honour.
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