pictured words

a simple pairing of pictures and poetry

Tag: Sonnet

November 14, 2017

RECEIVING SONNET

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Photo by Keith R. Good

The very word is musical, to me.
Her soft iambic pentameter, calm.
Her rise and fall, a wave of soothing sea.
A therapy. A troubled spirit’s balm.

The sonnet seems to whisper, not to shriek.
No heart has she for bias or outrage.
Her soul is surely humble, yielding, meek.
A lady, moving gracefully through age.

When strolling wood, I hear her hollowed call.
While contemplating God, she sometimes sighs.
Perceptible in mid-west farmland’s sprawl.
She’s many means to draw and mesmerize.

Each time she calls, I gladly sit with her.
I stroke each word, and listen for her purr.

 

© Marie Elena Good, 2017

7 Comments
September 25, 2017

THIS I KEEP ON DOING (a sinner’s sonnet)

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Photo by Deanna Marie Metts

 

“For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do –
this I keep on doing.” ~ Romans 7:19

Like Paul, I do what I don’t want to do.
The best in me is shallow as a shoal,
That barely covers that which is askew.
An ugliness lies deep within my soul.

Too quick am I to judge and criticize.
This goes against my core belief; my creed.
I want to see my fellow man with eyes
That focus on their value and their need.

I give to Christ my own besetting sin
And ask Him to unseat its hiding place.
I beg of Him to change me from within –
Remove what doesn’t bolster love and grace.

For He alone can break through this façade
To commandeer the part that’s deeply flawed.

 

© Marie Elena Good, 2017

4 Comments
July 8, 2017

ADDICT (sonnet for a friend in distress)

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She doesn’t fit the image in your head –
The one my title planted in your brain.
She’s quilted patchwork, fondly stitched bedspread.
She’s warmly welcomed gently falling rain.

She’s selfless soul and kindness above all.
Her prayers are like symphonic rays of sun.
When help is needed, she’s the one to call –
She’ll set distress aside for anyone.

Her nights are filled with terrorizing dreams;
Her days besieged with raging drug demands.
While patchwork stitches strain along the seams,
Her trembling heart is placed in Jesus’ hands.

If you are without sin, then cast your stone.
But He?  He will not let her stand alone.

 

© Marie Elena Good, 2017

4 Comments
April 11, 2017

A SOMBER SONNET, THIS

somber sonnet pic of izzy

*

Ain’t got no time for silliness, I say.
No room for fun.  No need for loud guffaws.
Can’t cope with pranks.  Can’t stand the phrase, “Let’s play.”
I’d rather deal with early menopause.

Ain’t got no time for silliness, for sure.
Won’t take the time to write a silly poem.
I’m too articulate, and too mature.
I’d rather chew on tin or Styrofoam.

Ain’t got no time for silliness, ya hear?
I’ve got no use for gigglers all aglow.
Don’t whisper no sweet nothings in my ear.
I’d rather use teaspoons to shovel snow.

Were I to pen some fun, I’d be remiss.
I’m glad that it’s a somber sonnet, this.

© Marie Elena Good, 2017

*Izzy’s first haircut!  😀

5 Comments
May 23, 2015

AN IMPERFECT POET (Sonnet for a Merciful God)

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My Lord is great, and greatly to be praised.
In Him, I live and breathe, and take delight.
Yet, even though I’m awed and stand amazed,
My hollow words do not reflect His might.

How regal is Your name in all the earth!
Lord, who am I, that You would care for me?
Creator of my heart before my birth,
I long for it to be a light for Thee.

Now, “may the meditation of my mind,
And words upon my lips,” as David urged,
“Be pleasing in Your sight,” and may You find
Offensive ways concealed in me, now purged.

Imperfect poet, bound in mercy’s frame,
I seek to daily lift Your sacred name.

2 Comments
Image | January 26, 2015
Casting Stones
2 Comments
Image | June 29, 2014
Isadora Kathleen_edited-1

God graciously gives gifts that prove His love, And this time used a cherished little one Whose precious face is reminiscent of The one who caused my heart to come undone. Another set of prints upon my soul Has made her presence known, and it’s sublime – Just like a piece that makes a puzzle […]

4 Comments
Image | June 29, 2014
Sophia Rose

A woman knows instinctively, it seems, Which moments will leave prints upon her soul. Her future life weaves fabric through her dreams And writes upon her heart, as though a scroll. A woman thinks she knows what to expect From pioneering moments in her world – Anticipation of events’ effects, And how her heart will […]

6 Comments