After The Sonnet Ends Poem by Sonny Rainshine

After The Sonnet Ends

Rating: 5.0

After the sonnet ends it begins.
The final word glistens suspended on a string
like an industrious spider on strands slender as pins,
like a trapeze artist’s precarious swing.
The minstral invites you to take the gift
of vases of words and decanters of wit
and parse them in your mind and shift
the meanings and the mores to fit
the memories of music and rhyme
in the repository of your mind
and perhaps to recall some other time,
and in the recollection find
another starting point where the thought ends,
still another meaning where the line bends.

C Richard Miles 13 February 2009

Thanks for this great poem. It opens my mind to possibilities of the modern sonnet - you don't have to stick to iambic pentameter for it to work - makes me want to go off and experiment. Great to see a poem about poetry, too - it's a subject I often ponder.

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Bill Thomas 01 August 2008

Excellent piece again, Sonny - though with the kids I teach, most'd be lucky to hang on to the thought of a haiku to swirl round the mouth & mind all day, let alone a sonnet! Keep it up! ! !

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Gone with the wind 23 July 2008

This is so beautiful..Each word is so full of life..'after the sonnet ends, it begins' a 10... Gul

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