Tag Archives: sonnet

Ode to My Precious

A Sonnet of love and sorrow:


Oh my precious, my dear birthday present

In this moment I hold thee above,

After a long and arduous ascent,

I have returned to thee that I love.

You shine brighter than yonder yellow face;

Blind am I to this life, this world I hate:

Of fisssh, toothless, tasteless, leaving no trace.

“Gullum, Gullum.”  I have become of late.

Yet, I, Smeagol, promise never to leave.

Hard fought, I stand upon these rocky grounds.

Never again to part, never to grieve.

Death I have forsaken in your gold bounds.

Now, as you descend in the fire with me;

My precious, eternity will I have with thee.


Sonnet #113

How can the stone compare to the rose?

Does the stone possess the rose’s seemly beauty?

Does the stone draw the bee and produce it’s honey?

Does the stone bloom and drink the living rain?Image

Can the hard rock feel winter’s gripping pain?

Oh beauteous maiden clad in thorny dress,

You stand in solemn seasonal youthfulness.

Did you ever stand in ages past?

Can you, like steadfast stone, through storms and seasons last?

Nea, beauty ends; upon the rock, love begins.