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Sonnet: She Obfuscates the Night
SHE OBFUSCATES THE NIGHT
Coy muse, she. Obfuscates the night, these days
gone in delicate dreams, and hours spent
pondering enigmatic eyes. It’s bent
my mind toward the full moon, yet silence stays
this chill heart from where a nasty mind strays
between delights’ hours. This dream she sent
from ocean eyes hints beaches—a week’s rent
for a studio on stilts—pleasure preys.
But then this room—back into focus; now
back to myself, realize she’s but dream
built on a thumbnail image. And yet how
real can any feel next to what may seem
joy incarnate? Nothing left but to bow
my head, into obfuscated night—and dream . . .
David M Pitchford
(C) 2007
Coy muse, she. Obfuscates the night, these days
gone in delicate dreams, and hours spent
pondering enigmatic eyes. It’s bent
my mind toward the full moon, yet silence stays
this chill heart from where a nasty mind strays
between delights’ hours. This dream she sent
from ocean eyes hints beaches—a week’s rent
for a studio on stilts—pleasure preys.
But then this room—back into focus; now
back to myself, realize she’s but dream
built on a thumbnail image. And yet how
real can any feel next to what may seem
joy incarnate? Nothing left but to bow
my head, into obfuscated night—and dream . . .
David M Pitchford
(C) 2007
Comment
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Comment by Rebecca on June 23, 2008 at 4:25pm - mmm love it David! I think it is relevant ("...she's but a dream built on a thumbnail image...) to modern times and that alot of people can actually relate to this sonnet! ;-)
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This is a beautiful and inspiring post. I also honour, respect and celebrate who you are.
I am a fellow Canadian and a writer as well. Wonderful to meet you here.
Bright blessings,
Coralie
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