The Stormy NightA Poem by WindhoverA sonnet which is meant to feel akin to Hopkins' sprung rhythm.Praise be to Hopkins I woke to the billowing battle-breeze, booming brontide Drawn from dreams decoded, and slipping serpentine Through thick wardrobes and war-chests: uncouth, unclean, But wordlessly welcome still; arms wanting, whooshing wide, The air always adroitly arcadian, and yet bro- ken into baleful bright-bursts, that hamper hypermnesia and lead one astray. Now upon the tantalizing terrace: truth! in the grumbling, grainy grey Lethal lightning lashes down and sizzles skin to silence. Drip drop, drip drop, drip drop, drip drop, drip drop. Until a heartbeat hums again, wimpling weakly Under the fried flesh - a crusty casket STOP. Now the morning meets the mire, and daylight drenches the deathly To forgotten places and spaces - known now as a nonstop Novel open to only Them: brontide infinity. © 2015 Windhover |
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3 Reviews Added on December 26, 2015 Last Updated on December 26, 2015 Tags: Poetry, Hopkins, Sprung Rhythm, Sonnet AuthorWindhoverCanadaAboutI am currently an honours English major and film minor student at university. I have self-published one book and have had a poem published. I enjoy all types of literature. more..Writing
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