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    AC Benus
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

One Hundred and Fifty-Five Sonnets - 23. "Loneliness can take to it a sharp point"

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Sonnet No. 45


I wish to break the cycle; give you something

You could show your friends and be proud of –

A token to say for you I am your king;

That showers you with the happiness of love.

I'll tell you of the happy time ahead

When hand-in-hand over green grass we'll go,

While our sorrow we'll replace with joy instead,

And in our hearts' honeymoon we will glow.

The day your hand slips into mine for good

Will be the day I freshly see the world,

For all its pain will be understood,

And the true banner of you and I unfurled.

Let your friends read this, and let them smile

That you're passionately loved in style!

 

 

Sonnet No. 46


Loneliness can take to it a sharp point –

Twist it 'round the blade, and shavings fall

In ribbons thin-sheared away to the viewpoint

That there was ever company at all.

Today the freshness of the morning's eye

Rises this Sunday peacefully around,

And with each passing word wants to know why

I ignore her and her beauty profound.

But Nature can't see, She's the blade that cuts –

Trims my life by minutes and days that fade,

As these lines sharpen, if I have the guts,

The simple point I have not yet made.

I'd trade all the future mornings right now,

If I could just say "I love you" somehow.

 

 

_

Copyright © 2018 AC Benus; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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As your words so often do, you speak very directly to my ear and my heart in these. It is a great gift you share with us, to make us (or me, at least) feel as if we are listening to you in the chair next to ours.

 


Number 45 had me wishing I were the object of the speaker's words, "a token to say for you I am your king." And then there is the pair of lines, "the day your hand slips into mine for good will be the day I freshly see the world" which speak the words of lovers and those who yearn everywhere.

 


It's the images in Number 46 that struck me right away. Sharp points, ribbon thin shavings, trimmings, blades...and all in a fresh morning sun. These do not act as obvious foils, but they are hardly companions. Loneliness as the blade that sharpens, that cuts our lives into smaller pieces, no less than time does, is a powerful observation. And with these words, you surely speak of love to all of us.

 


Thank you for sharing yet another wonderful pair of sonnets with us.

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Oh the love in 45 is palpable. Everyone should be loved like that, how wonderful that would be. If the boy that was for didn’t know he was loved, he was blind. It’s truly beautiful.
In 46 Nature is the blade … shaves away time, the most precious of things. And these words:

I'd trade all the future mornings right now,

If I could just say "I love you" somehow.

So much to give up, for the chance to say those words ...

 

AC these are both wonderful ... beautiful.

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On 9/29/2016 at 5:14 AM, Parker Owens said:

As your words so often do, you speak very directly to my ear and my heart in these. It is a great gift you share with us, to make us (or me, at least) feel as if we are listening to you in the chair next to ours.

Number 45 had me wishing I were the object of the speaker's words, "a token to say for you I am your king." And then there is the pair of lines, "the day your hand slips into mine for good will be the day I freshly see the world" which speak the words of lovers and those who yearn everywhere.

It's the images in Number 46 that struck me right away. Sharp points, ribbon thin shavings, trimmings, blades...and all in a fresh morning sun. These do not act as obvious foils, but they are hardly companions. Loneliness as the blade that sharpens, that cuts our lives into smaller pieces, no less than time does, is a powerful observation. And with these words, you surely speak of love to all of us.

Thank you for sharing yet another wonderful pair of sonnets with us.

Thank you for your kind words, Parker. I recall writing No. 45. It was an early morning, and the pen and paper close to my bed was called into use as the sun rose. That was a somewhat regular occurrence, as many of the ideas within the poems came to me just as I opened my eyes.

This one particularly is memorable though for the image a wooden pencil being shaved to a sharp point, which seemed a fairly original image to have.

I'm glad – as always – these poems spoke to you. Thank you, my friend.

Edited by AC Benus
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On 9/29/2016 at 2:04 PM, Mikiesboy said:

Oh the love in 45 is palpable. Everyone should be loved like that, how wonderful that would be. If the boy that was for didn’t know he was loved, he was blind. It’s truly beautiful.

In 46 Nature is the blade … shaves away time, the most precious of things. And these words:

I'd trade all the future mornings right now,
If I could just say "I love you" somehow.

So much to give up, for the chance to say those words ...

 

AC these are both wonderful ... beautiful.

Thank you, Tim, as always! The image in No. 46 that you cite in the quote is about being able to say the 'perfect love.' My dad taught me that human perfection is a fallacy, and I've always believed him. I guess that means if I or anyone ever hit perfection in a human endeavor, he or she would be transformed and lose their mortality.

Anyway, that was the guiding light behind the sentiment in the poem.

Thanks again for your wonderful review.

Edited by AC Benus
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