Into the night I wait for muse of moon
The stars arrange a symphony of silence
I tinker, tally words and thoughts but soon
Dear Luna slips between the haze, defiant
From hinterland the owl bestows a hoot
That echoes in the forests of my mind
I wait for inspiration to take root
As Luna slumbers deep beneath the skies
When midnight mocks the cursor on my page
I revel in the balladry unborn
Though constellations, cryptic they may fade
‘Tis hope that lights the way of the forlorn
Dear Luna stirs behind her quilt of clouds
She scatters dreams for me to read aloud
Written for “Poetry Forms”, a dVerse Poets Pub project.
This is my offering of a sonnet in Shakespearean style. The rhyme scheme is ABAB CDCD EFEF GG. The structure consists of 3 quatrains, followed by one couplet. The “volta” occurs in the 12th line . I focused on the iambic pentameter and rhyme. Quite the challenge. You can learn more about this form as Bjorn describes in further detail here.
To write with the inspiration of the moon is wonderful… I have never really tried to be there with the moon, often it is there from my memory in reality…
Lovely work Mish
Thank you so much, Bjorn!
This is the line that resonated with most, “When midnight mocks the cursor on my page.” I enjoyed this. Have a great week.
Thanks, Ali 🙂
You wrote about poetic struggles so beautifully. It is something most of us, and I, in particular, can relate to. Oftentimes, the night simply passes away and the times inspiration strikes, I have to get out of bed and scribble the words before I forget. Your volta is what makes all of the fruitless waiting and writing worth it. 🙂
Thanks for your thoughtful comments….and thank goodness for voltas!
Very nice Sonnet! Sometimes our inspiration hides behind the clouds with the moon!
Yes I think it does! Thanks for reading.
midnight musings equals inspiration!
Most of the time!
Nice last two lines about those scattered dreams to read out-loud especially given this line: “The stars arrange a symphony of silence”.
You rocked the iambic pentameter in this sonnet, Mish, and painted a beautiful night-time landscape. I love the effective sibilance in ‘The stars arrange a symphony of silence’ and the echoing hoot of the owl.
I really appreciate your comment, Kim. 🙂
I wasn’t sure if I could pull it all together!
so skillfully rendered. you make it look easy
Oh but it wasn’t….THANK YOU!!
Very well done. So pregnant with mean, but it sort of escapes me, much like Luna, I guess. The volta hints that Luna spoke to you, but only by offering scattered dreams — no coherence is all she offered?
The theme of many poets saying they can’t hear their muse while writing is very common, of course. We all know it. Forms are a chance to force something out when content is not easily coming. Writing about the elephant in the rooms sometimes becomes the subject I guess.
I read the comments, and they don’t help me see more clearly — people quoting their favorite lines and all. Everyone pics up on how hard to write when inspiration lacking, it seems. But I really want to understand your ending. Is it just a write about how your muse is Luna and she won’t talk, so you use that scene to write a poem with the nature analogies. Or, as Sonnet structure was there a Problem (a propositions), then a turn (a volta) and a new tone with a solution or surprise?
Yes, I suppose I wrote about the elephant in the room. I admit I was concentrating on the form as this was only my second sonnet. I intended the volta to be the hope of light (inspiration) in the 12th line, followed by the fact that Luna finally stirred (an awakening) which would actually bring the light, the inspiration (the resolution) . The image of Luna scattering her dreams was the release of words, ideas, thoughts that I was waiting for from the beginning. The nature analogies are something I tend to just breathe sometimes without thinking.
I hope this helps explain my intent at least. Take from it what you like and “scatter” the rest with Luna. Thanks for your thoughtful comments, Sabio.
Cool, thanx Mish, that was a fun exposition. ‘Tis indeed true that our minds can present a swirling mix of scattered images that we then weave into stories or presentations. “Scattered”
The moon has her moods. (K)