Day 70: (Emulate The Masters) 6 Sonnets In Imabic Pentameter

A deed is a mark which makes me feel

In creating a great love is its true reward

With waves of light showing me, I kneel

On bended knee to see the path I move toward.

For his is the mark of a crescent moon

From tides a washing the shore with care,

I dance along this path, and I croon

As he absorbs my stare.

Golden steeds do render

Through the sun’s blazing fire

To ignite passions of the lender

Who walks in stride of a Squire.

In the songs my heart sings

I skip when his bell rings.


In the longing for his kiss,

Her heart he casts away

She cries out because of his remiss

Because he has gone astray.

In this dance her crying does bring

Her soul is set to fire.

The cantor offers his word of a king

To find another to be her friar.

For her love shan’t be forsaken

By one so tied to his belief

In light of the roads he’s taken,

Because he is not a thief.

Now her heart has mended

Because her sorrow has ended.


My soul is prisoner to the past

In these diluted visions of ghosts.

How long must this suffering last

In a life stolen by my hosts?

I send for my soul for an offering

To the Lord who will heal my spirit

To cleans the soot from my being

Created by those who wouldn’t hear it.

The woes filling this geyser

Create bitter wines which I drink.

For they shall make me wiser

The longer my wiles go on a brink.

The night brings forth a wave

For every cent I now save.


Every dollar spent on a smile

The man feels taller than a tower

While drifting on the Nile

Throughout the hazy hour.

He shielded his eyes with his cap

For his head was ringing wet.

He was considered a sap

To all the people he ever met.

“What a glorious day,” he sighed,

When walking along the shore,

“For I fly throughout this nigh,

As the Lord opens His door.”

He drifted up to Heaven

When the clock struck eleven.


I drove through town one morning

On my way to the work

When it stormed without any warning

I thought it must be God’s quirk.

For the gusts of wind blew fierce

I turned on my wipers to ease my sight

But the pouring rain would only coerce

Throughout my troubled plight.

I pulled off the road

To wait out the storm

While my heart begun to corrode

Going against the standard norm.

The rain drifted astray

I no longer had to stay.


I stopped by the park on my walk

When the squirrels gathered nuts for winter.

I sat on a bench to gawk,

When my finger was struck by a splinter.

Children ran all over the grass,

Skipping throughout the day,

Till one child stepped on glass,

His family was in dismay.

I felt for the poor little thing

Who bled all over the place

What a trifle to bring

Onto the child named Ace.

His mother wiped away his tears.

Gone were his fears.

© Kiki Stamatiou, 2015


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