Sticking with attempted forms, I thought I’d give a go at an Italian Sonnet.  Not much of a “student” and always a rule breaker…sorry Mom & Dad, I have to admit I’ve been enjoying the Form Monday’s at Onestop Poetry, as my understanding and poetic vocabulary grows.  So, while I’ll never have any claim to fame for being a true to form kind of girl…at least you won’t be able to say I didn’t try.  For this weeks OneShotWedneday I give to you, for your reading and reviewing pleasure……

In evening over fields of gold I fly
As burning sun dips so below to rest
And comforted against my mother’s breast
Encouraged wings, so once again I try
Amongst clouds in the ghost gray evening sky
Upon current of gentle wind I crest
Courage found to take and pass this life test
As I embrace the realm where ghosts reside
Lost amongst graveyard mounds and weeping sounds
 Native spirits causes my heart to beat
Where fear and loathing amongst shadows hide
But Mother sends the enemy to the ground
And again I take credit for their defeat 
~Natasha Head~
Mary Cassatt

20 thoughts on “Coddled

  1. While one can say you didn't try,But that would be a lie.But is can still be saidAren't I twisting your words in my headPlus I am number oneTo tell you another job well doneTake that Brian and WaystationoneI beat you by a tonYou beat the scary ghosts of the nightOh you must have put up a good fightImagine if they were realThat would be quite the ordeal

  2. a beautiful moment of rest and feeling at home you capture here natasha.sonnets are written usually in strict iambic meter -so if you are very serious about it, you could work on some parts. but it is a really beautiful piece and i like the message very much – and together with the image – yes – beautiful

  3. Natasha, you have conveyed the feeling of safety and mother inspired courage beautifully. If only every child were blessed to experience this, how different the world would be.

  4. This is a lovely and air-lofty sonnet with your words ringing throughout the form. But, what I love most about Coddling is your progression of ideas that takes us from start to finish. This not only gives your poem meaning, but captures the feeling of sonnnet progression, iambic or not (no rules!). I love your transition from comfort to challenge to retreat to that final sense of seperation, which is the start of wisdom, all air-sailing on beautiful words.

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