Marieta Maglas Sonnet Poems

I need to reach your thinking wave universe
When love is a river and weaves through the verse.
We are man and woman made by God from clay.
Maybe this clay will be cosmic dust someday.
...

The blossom of the blackthorn and the lily had the same

Glow in the shepherd lands, where I stayed to think o' Your name.
...

My heart races touching your deep Spirit's kiss,
My tear's curb crumbles greening my shrink cry.
The softness of your voice soothes my abyss.
My soul torn apart wondering to know why.
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In the blue sky height, the red, strange sun's waves of light
Rend here and there the painful horizon making it mobile.
Touching the Southern Bight, they seem to reach the night,
Making the sea more empowered and more unable.
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A fugitive, he flees to the hills,
The boar, the boar having silver fangs.
How pale is this moon, giving strange thrills!
Is this star falling, the land to whang?
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The wind has bloody, long claws
that scratch the sensitive skin
of the leaves. They bleed within.
The nature is wrapped in shawls
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The orchid flower's scent for Her Highness
Is like a love letter from far away,
Or like new happiness for human kindness,
Or like birds chirping in the spring of May!
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The rose's scent for the Royal Highness
Looks like red for some Yorks running away
Forever to live in their white blindness.
The throne was lost just in the spring, in May.
...

Equilibrium needs the ending state of instability
Because this potential energy is dependability.
It's like the unifying state of contraries in a war dance
Or a contradictory state of abstraction; a trance.
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These frozen eyes of winter glittering so cruel
Like scorching flames of fire, the icy hearts could melt,
When hearts could make the flame to eye the night so cool
And cool the night in winter, their inner songs to bent.
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Sometimes, the angels come to her at night.

She sees white shadows in the holy light.
Her ‘yesterday' in silence passed away
...

Watching shadows in the holy light,
she understands the sense of the fight.
For her, tomorrow is a new day
to do all in her specific way.
...

'Tis almost charming and a true delight
To feel, in summer, the mosquitoes bite.
And when the sluggish sun breaks its hot crust,
The wind can teach you how to smoke some dust.
...

I pray although it's the end of the time,
The angel wakes up while spreading his wings.
Fluffing up the cloud's pillow, he's sublime.
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My love is touching the sweetness of your kiss,
I can taste it but I can't find our love's bliss.
My new tear's curb crumbles and I feel to cry.
Your mind is far away. I want to know why.
...

Don't lose your nice hope at sixty.
You'll reach your next nice destiny.
One thing you'll never really know~
To be with me in a real show.
...

(A poetical exercise with Menime Soul)

The poet:
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