Sonnet I

Many years ago when I was taking literature in college (ouch, it hurts to say many years ago!), we had a paper in Poetry and one of the group assignments in that paper we had was to write a sonnet. The term sonnet is derived from the Italian word sonetto and signifies a poem of fourteen lines that follows a strict rhyme scheme and specific structure. We must have been a group of four or five and among them I was the only overenthusiastic poet who took this task upon myself. To tell you a secret my enthusiasm must have been largely because of this cute looking guy I had a huge crush on and was hoping to impress with my poetic skills (as if this was a Victorian Romance). I stumbled upon this sonnet today and felt like sharing it. It won second prize and the only comment I remember the Prof. made at the time was this is a “terse” poem. I had to go back home and look up what that word meant.

So here it is:

Art by Janaye Book on fineartamerica.com

Youth knocking at her door- Gentle yet persistent

Screams of her country binding her heart.

The urges he stirred in her- Compelling and insistent

Bearing the sting of muffled feelings- her heart torn apart.

Her roots in the exploited, and his from the enslavers start.

Time-place of their beginning- hard to point.

Of different skin colours- their love was like art

No connection in lives’ – yet their existences joint.

The rebel in her craved for the doom of his traitor race

The injustice, the grief caused made her patriotic blood boil.

Her anguish disappeared – just the sight of his face.

No love is less or more- for lover or for soil.

A doomed love in a bruised nation.

 A battle of affections without salvation.

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2 thoughts on “Sonnet I

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