Two Sonnets
My little pretty hopping rabbits — Mes deux jolis petits lapins qui sautillent
When Time was a fœtus …
When Time was a fœtus in Eternity’s womb
The hour struck from timeless campanile of God;
Oh it grew with imagination’s eager speed
Running on diamond haste to reach ages abroad!
Though it was formed in the house of Ignorance
Always its hunger was for things of the spirit;
The kindled flame soared to the invisible sky
To fetch marvels that in inscrutable amber sit.
Word was given when silence burst into sound
And the penman scripted adoration’s pæans;
Like stars comprehending depths of the night
Entered into mystery’s sleep dreaming eons.
There surely is a dazzling secrecy to explore,
And in Time’s zeal behold more and the ever more.
28 April 2026
My verse wears attar of the latest spirit
My verse wears attar of the latest spirit,
Its purple robe rustling with the fragrant wind;
In luxurious backyard garden smile flowers
And come pinkest birds colourful rhymes to find.
Blown by inspiration blaze great metaphors
That have bags of future’s dactylic memory;
Yet in their happy swiftness strums the lyric harp
In the ecstatic laughter of lapis lazuli.
From the Unknowable is arriving the Unknown,
With gold and green of creative utterance;
Dreams of silver sleep shall bear poetry’s fortunes,
Fluent wonders with sight and sound and substance.
The Bard is here with fiery passionate quill,
Morrow’s inspired Word humming in the Rill.
29 April 2026
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