Tag Archives: Sonnets

The Gorgeous Dead – Jacob T. Reilly

               The Gorgeous Dead           A Poem for My Brother Peter When the air cuts you quick like Orion’s sword, Flickering, gleaming, brightly brandished stars, Hunt  the rimed heavens for Venus then Mars, Bodies that blaze in teeming crystal hordes Of Boreas, for if you stay awake And vigilant for long enough at night, The mortified blades, […]

Oranges – A Poem for my Sister Madeline…

                         Oranges      A Poem for Madeline, my Loving Sister ORANGES are sticky-sweet and oh so bright. I think that God to make them plucked the sun From off the sky so blue and at sunset’s light Did squeeze and shake until the deed was done, Until He juiced that luminary orb And sprinkled droplets over earth […]

A Worthless Sonnet Here I Fling to You

A worthless sonnet here I fling to you, For no mere play of measured words in rhyme Could ever finish what I hope to do, Could speak His beauty, awful and sublime. When God decided on the seventh day To rest Himself, and all His labors quit, He took the pen that scribbled out His […]

There is a looking glass beyond the sea

There is a looking glass beyond the sea That shows her subject many secret things, The things that are, the things that yet may be, And memories from long forgotten springs. Go looking for this mirror if you dare; It’s hidden underneath a castle wall. Go look indeed at beauties, rich and fair. But don’t […]

I built a palace on the coastal sand

I built a palace on the coastal sand With towers hanging o’er the crashing sea, It was the throne I dreamt that it would be. I thought I’d found my home and native land. But as the Sun sank lower in the west It freed the winds of the Black Orient, And every stone was […]

The Muses

The hand that dips the nib into the ink Must first be practiced in a saintly art ‘Till all the hosts of Heaven see and think That Goodness found a home within his heart. And still the poet must not touch the page Until he finds fair Truth along the way And Reason helps the […]

To Mars

The drum, the drum, the drum plays on. In rage And greed and lust it’s calling out the guns. What history is writ without the page Besprinkled with the blood of countless sons? And names they had, forgotten now, but names That blazed like sunrise in the distant East. O Mars, look e’en today: The […]