![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
seikilosTitle: Sonnets between Watcher and Weaver
Fandom:![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
luceti, Tales of Legendia, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Gen
Rating: PG
Words: 353
Disclaimer: I don't own the above fandoms.
Summary: Two sonnets written by Giles to Grune--and one written by her in response when her memories return.
Author's Notes: One of my students needed help writing a sonnet for his homework one day last month; afterwards, I thought it seemed an interesting challenge and decided to give it a go.
I've deliberately deviated from form in each one; rather than have a reversal, I changed the formatting to suit my own purposes. I will also freely admit to being unskilled at poetry, having not made a serious attempt at the stuff outside of what was required in class since high school. Still, I'm trying to expand as a writer, so here you are.
(I)
As fair and fresh as dry earth's quenching rain,
Your every movement is unthinking grace.
So free of care, untroubled by all pain,
The lines of fear have never marred your face.
But life has ground my soul as by a mill
And age has taught me fate is always cruel.
My years have seen much hate, wrongs by my will.
I dared seek love, yet— "I am fortune's fool."
Ah, gentle hand upon my bloodstained own,
Soft words of love and friendship all unsought.
With your kind heart, you heal and give a home
To one with darkened deed and wretched thought.
Absolve my sins: my soul you thus preserve.
I turn from you to give what you deserve.
(II)
The sum of years of bitter lessons learned
Is shown both in my brow and absent trust.
"The good die young": the line stays ever burned
In dry, rough skin—an overture to dust.
You meet each day with youth's blithe heedlessness,
Unmarked and perfect face alight with joy.
Aware of neither age nor hopelessness,
It seems that you have never been fate's toy.
Together, age makes youth seem younger still,
And youth leads age yet nearer to the grave.
This body can no more do as I will;
Not even love can force it to behave.
Yet here the laws of God do not preside
For age and youth in one same soul reside.
(III)
Belovèd fool, you hate that which is dear,
That which is treasured in my deepest heart.
You wound yourself each hour, your sins you fear
And cause me pain by holding us apart.
My dear one, I am not a wilting flow'r,
Too fragile for harsh sun or night's cruel chill.
And never am I lacking needed pow'r
To guard myself from those who wish me ill.
"We'll always be true friends" —it is no lie.
Your hand in mine brings only happiness.
Although there comes a day when you will die,
Your smile, still loved, will banish loneliness.
Though but a man, by life so oft brought low,
Your love saves more than you will ever know.
Fandom:
luceti, Tales of Legendia, Buffy the Vampire SlayerGenre: Gen
Rating: PG
Words: 353
Disclaimer: I don't own the above fandoms.
Summary: Two sonnets written by Giles to Grune--and one written by her in response when her memories return.
Author's Notes: One of my students needed help writing a sonnet for his homework one day last month; afterwards, I thought it seemed an interesting challenge and decided to give it a go.
I've deliberately deviated from form in each one; rather than have a reversal, I changed the formatting to suit my own purposes. I will also freely admit to being unskilled at poetry, having not made a serious attempt at the stuff outside of what was required in class since high school. Still, I'm trying to expand as a writer, so here you are.
As fair and fresh as dry earth's quenching rain,
Your every movement is unthinking grace.
So free of care, untroubled by all pain,
The lines of fear have never marred your face.
But life has ground my soul as by a mill
And age has taught me fate is always cruel.
My years have seen much hate, wrongs by my will.
I dared seek love, yet— "I am fortune's fool."
Ah, gentle hand upon my bloodstained own,
Soft words of love and friendship all unsought.
With your kind heart, you heal and give a home
To one with darkened deed and wretched thought.
Absolve my sins: my soul you thus preserve.
I turn from you to give what you deserve.
The sum of years of bitter lessons learned
Is shown both in my brow and absent trust.
"The good die young": the line stays ever burned
In dry, rough skin—an overture to dust.
You meet each day with youth's blithe heedlessness,
Unmarked and perfect face alight with joy.
Aware of neither age nor hopelessness,
It seems that you have never been fate's toy.
Together, age makes youth seem younger still,
And youth leads age yet nearer to the grave.
This body can no more do as I will;
Not even love can force it to behave.
Yet here the laws of God do not preside
For age and youth in one same soul reside.
Belovèd fool, you hate that which is dear,
That which is treasured in my deepest heart.
You wound yourself each hour, your sins you fear
And cause me pain by holding us apart.
My dear one, I am not a wilting flow'r,
Too fragile for harsh sun or night's cruel chill.
And never am I lacking needed pow'r
To guard myself from those who wish me ill.
"We'll always be true friends" —it is no lie.
Your hand in mine brings only happiness.
Although there comes a day when you will die,
Your smile, still loved, will banish loneliness.
Though but a man, by life so oft brought low,
Your love saves more than you will ever know.
