Tag Archives: Sonnet

Girl with Burning Candle, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Girl with Burning Candle

In what light is it best for me to see
Shall it be by sun or slender candle
Sunshine provides warmth while the cost is free
While a draft makes candles hard to handle


But what is it that’s needed to be viewed
To gaze upon the high flying eagle’s wing
Or the lion I’m trying to elude
By reaching for the rope I which to cling


There’s no reason to toss the candle yet
For it shall let me see you in the night
To study your beauty I shan’t forget
The candle’s glow provides an angelic sight


There is plenty of light your lips to kiss
While what is to be seen I will not miss

Image credit:

http://connectvermeer.org/painting.php?id=RKD_ART_NUMBER-256097

Her Hand II, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Her Hand II

Her hot hand deftly slides across my thigh
While limber fingers did a spider’s crawl
My heart reached a red rich blood cosmic high
Every inch of me she begins to maul

That she’s on a mission can’t be denied
Her broad defiant smile left me helpless
Unable to move even if I tried
To conquer my flesh she is relentless

By the spell of a black widow spider
Ever slowly I slide into my fate
Of a fully paralyzing rapture
There is no desire for it to abate

Next to my quiet steaming corpse she lies
Like a hunter in pictures with her prize

Image credit:

https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2016/jun/20/artists-selected-john-moore-painting-prize-shortlist-unveiled

Special Note:

Yesterday I presented a triolet and today a sonnet. Again I ask you choose between the two. Which is your favorite? Please comment which you chose and tell me why. Looking forward to your thoughts.

Almond Blossoms, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Almond Blossoms

The battles rage between winter and spring
With reckless northern winds and freezing rain
While the robin redbreasts begin to sing
And naked human skin fair game for pain

In the congested grove filled with white balls
Holding on to every branch of the tree
Fearlessly fights off winter’s final squalls
Knowing spring’s gentle warmth will set them free

Soon to be countless opened loving cups
Filled with buttery honey-like vapor
For days on end there will be no letups
As armies of honey bees collect myrrh

The scent of the almond blossoms abound
Sad their petals soon to be on the ground

Image credit:

https://www.vangoghmuseum.nl/en/collection/s0176V1962?v=1