Fay Roberts Poetry: sonnet

09 December 2021

Amber

You take my flesh in hand and start to score.
You press with gentle force to mark a seam.
You know the path, you’ve traced its route before:
this armour guards a softness, lush as dreams.

This task takes patience, time, and outright skill;
first layer gone and now the harder part:
a thin, tight membrane keeps you from your fill,
so lift the bitter, taste my sweeter heart.

The air sings, tartly, beckoning your tongue;
and busy fingers blush, juice running free.
Impediments are done, the feast’s begun;
my core surrendered, you devouring me.

The fresh scent lingers, memories kept real;
ripe flesh is worth the challenge of the peel.

This sonnet was written as part of #NaPoWriMo (National Poetry Writing Month) 2017. It's one of my traditions to try to write a #sonnet every April. This has since shifted as, 2019, I often write 7 sonnets every February, as part of the #28SonnetsLater challenge. You can see previous attempts of mine during NaPoWriMo on my dedicated blog. And this sketch is another colour piece! I'm clearly enjoying the challenge. Usually later in the process than with black-and-white sketches, it must be said...

A mildy impressionistic digital drawing of a small orange sitting on a plain surface, utilising highly saturated colours. The peel on the front half of the orange has been peeled down to lie in three curving flaps; the rest of the peel remains around the orange, including a kind of cap of peel. The central segment of the orange has been pulled away to reveal the dark, hollow interior of the fruit, while the rest of the segments remain in place. A few drops of moisture cling to the top of the orange and within the open section. If one were a suggestible person, one might view the pointed, upright oval space with something firm yet juicy just drawing back from penetrating it in a rather sensual light. As it is, this merely an orange. Of course.

Ceci est seulement une orange

01 February 2019

Inside Out

So, because I was in the frame of Say Yes to More Things, I am doing #28sonnetslater. Since, up until now, this has been the sum total of my sonnet-writing, I thought I’d better get some practice in, so as not to shame my fellow sonneteers (it's a word now, shh). I asked my partner for a prompt, and got the film we’d just watched…

My mind’s a well-oiled engine, so they say;
There’s no good giving in to wanton ire,
For all the voices clamouring are fey,
Their one true prize to find my life’s desire.

This movie I’ve not seen in four long years
Can always find its way into my heart.
It shows me truth, all hemmed about with fears
That I have given up my rainbow cart.

One cannot live in truth on only joy,
For it’s true madness to be only glad,
And even treasured memories can cloy,
If they’re not leavened by a touch of sad.

And though I may be weeping by the end,
I’ll aim to leave this life my own good friend.

I know it’s flawed, as far as strict form is concerned, and there’s an abominable pun to boot, but it’s a start. Look out for the next one on the proper blog. Unless I get the desire to do more practice (and share it).

(Yes I’m nervous. Shh.)