Sonnet 39: In Which She Is Chasing Something

Beautifully constructed Sonnet!
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No Talent For Certainty

A dream need not be fearsome, she has found,
But yet be odd and hard to understand;
She runs on, over unfamiliar ground,
Across a strange and foreign stretch of land

The trees are clumped in moving sorts of groves
With leaves of gossamer and mercury;
They point her towards her quarry as it moves,
A sort of arboreal courtesy

But she cannot make out with clarity
Just what it is she chases all the while;
But yet, she runs on, with celerity,
Across one lonely mile after mile

She doesn’t know what has been put to flight
Although she has this dream most every night

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A Sonnet to Desire — Poetry

“Freedom from desire leads to inner peace.” ~ Lao-tzu
O Desire, do not hold me so!
You, a rogue with a wicked tongue
To seduce me into your bed
One night with you would do me harm
Your kisses are as sweet as wine
And your touch charged by Cupid’s bow
Your devilish smile stirs my blood
Your stare captures my pounding heart
O the turmoil you put me through!
You will take then leave me all alone
Let me go, Desire–tempting soul
It is peace and freedom I need

©June 2014, Lori Carlson