The stars will glow, numb coals of icy light,
The moon will wax and wane in company.
A chill will nudge the clouds with ardent knee,
Then hug the frigid blackness of the night.
Each branch will glisten, blonded by the bite
And sting of crystal clinging to the tree,
As geese once more to southward swiftly flee
With honk and rasp to leave the frozen sight.
But geese return when green the marshes grow
To nest among the reeds: one voice, one pair
To mate, one wing whose warmth will never tire.
And hidden in the shadows' depth the slow
And aging goose retreats from ganders' stare,
To mourn her mate, to wait, and to expire.
A contest entry
- Sonnet ~ #50 Winklings Contest for friends and Allpoetry by Winklings Account.
3720 points, ended March 13, 13 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 7 of 7
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I love nature because it's everything, sad and beautiful and everything, this made me think of that the sadness of the goose alone, this I found to be a rich, vivid poem.
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an amazing petrarchan sonnet, exquisit imagery and vocabulary and absolutely flawless iambic pentameter ... I loved the metaphor of the aging goose who retreats from ganders' stare, it touched very much ... and the ambiance in the octet is truly majestic and stunning ...
a great work of art, my dear friend,
maa
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Such beautiful depth in this lovely Italian/Petrarchan Sonnet. Your imagery is absolutely delightful and the entire metaphor is amazing. A wonderful entry. Simply stunning. I LOVED it. ~Pamela
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Thank you for your comment. I am so pleased that you liked the poem and recognized the metaphor. Few people do.
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Nice Petrarchan form, lovely iambic pentameter. I enjoyed the imagery of winter and retreat of geese, and the clear volta of spring and nesting. There is a shadow with goose in mourning; perhaps a metaphor, but not pointed. This is a lovely poem, thanks for joining us.
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There is a theme of breeding
and mortality, inclusive of all life, of course. However, friend, you did not move from nature to human nature as specified, within the movement of this sonnet.
Your sonnet is classic Italian Renaissance in style.
The octet, set in winter, treats the migration South, of the geese. The sestet, well, it does the opposite.
The turn is really a natural one: a turn in the season.
As with all life, mortality is sad because it is so for us.
I do thank you poet, for a fine nature sonnet. It has dignity.
Lyndon of the Winklings.
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A beautiful sonnet, ful of wonderful and sad imagery! and great example for me! Good luck in the contest
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