An aged face with scruffy greying beard; Locked in the past, of memories gone by; Exploring the land that a young man fears; Reliving mistakes, just waiting to die; Trapped in the empty, and feeling the cold; Tasting the bitter of silence and still; Remembering youth so lusty and bold; Loving forever, never getting fufilled. On this sunset plain the late sun has smiled; My lover's womb called, and drew in my breath; A soul formed, and grew, for she was with child; A daughter ensued, and threw back my death. When future's once seemed so dark, so forlorn; With the touch of her hand I was reborn. ** I made sure it had 14 lines this time care to give it a go Jon?

Frozen are the lakes and streams; Harsh with cold the North wind blows, Summer warmth a thing of dreams As winter comes with sleet and snow. Barren white hides all the fields, Greyness shrowds the heavy sky; Until the sun makes clouds yield, A crystal world to make thereby. Clear blue crowns the blinding scene Of prisms blooming against the white. Beauty shines where dark has been, Sparkling still in the moon's pure light. Cold and dark the winter will bring Also, ice flowers to 'mind us of spring.

The problem Cal with writing about a scene in a sonnet is when you come to the turn (the volta) in the third stanza. Your volta is very soft and hard to catch as a turn.It seems to be more a part of the same scene you mentioned in the first two stanza more like a narrowing of your field of vision from the general scene to an object in the scene. Its a beautiful work. I can see the problems though. How about: Though cold and dark the winters mark will bring; Sparkling ice flowers to recall the spring. Just be glad I didn't try for a heroic sonnet which is an 18 line form. Good job.

I had trouble saying what I wanted in the last two lines. I like your suggestion.

As far as the meter goes,you can see why I hate "FORMS'. A form is a guide to help the poet organize his work it shouldn't be a concrete set of rules. I find having to work strictly in one meter cramps my fingers and inhibits the flow. When you're forced to write in say "iambic pentemeter" it leads to garden verse which sounds forced and is the mark of an amateur. A true artist will use several brushes and techniques in a graphic and a poet should also use forms and meter as guides and aids. The trick is the skillful use of those items. By the way my poem was in iambic pentemeter because I wanted to see If I could give myself a twofer.

Life Goes On J. M. Strother Two young hearts burn, and kindle passion new. Passion grows deep within, to love full bloom, Which then brings something borrowed, something blue, In flowered aisle, young bride meets young groom. With time the belly swells, the children come, And new found joy they bring, amidst the tears. Their joys and pains like unto your own become, As they grow, and you try to set aside all fears. Alas, time comes, when they feel compelled To forge a way, in wide, uncertain world. Leave house, which now seems but an empty shell, To reflexions through time, so quickly hurled. Mourn not the passage of the ages gone. Mourn not the loss of youth, for life goes on.

Alright Jon sn-sn-sn I thin' you got a twofer on the form mon. A little better on the volta. What was the problem? I say 8 and 4 and 2. Shakespearean sonnet in iambic pentemeter. This form does tend to the introspective view.

Just watched Kiss Me Deadly again, so I was inspired to write this tale: Navigating roads leading nowhere fast A cold crescent moon overflowing black Rises with the stars in search of the past How I wish I could fix things, just go back Put it together before it went wrong They were onto me from the beginning I should not have held her gaze for so long. I thought I had caught the prize worth winning A brand new car with a dame who can dance. I conned the best of them or so I thought Now Im running for my life, my last chance Gotta keep running so we dont get caught Running low on gas well have to stop soon. Some cash, a cool dame, one gun, and the moon.

Joe you're really doing well today...I was just reading the Howlin' Dog Blues doin a little tinkling with the midi and here comes a 14 liner not exactly a sonnet..some people would "point out" that sonnets are usually love poems, but I also opened up that definition a little wider. I dont notice a change at line 8, the direction stays true. I'll have to give them all some thought...well I haven't got anything to do tomorrow.

Just curious if there was a decision on this one, and if there is going to be another poetry challenge coming soon? While I don't consider myself a poet, I find these challenges, well... challenging, and have come to look forward to them. I'd hate to see them fall by the wayside. jon