A “dona nobis pacem” frame of mind
eludes me and the world this time of year:
no peace on earth, no tranquil hope may find
free lodging absent stealth companion’s fear.
The bleak midwinter challenges my mood,
A dilatory penchant for stiff drink,
The promise of vast stores of festive food,
I cannot draw a breath nor even think
About the 40 thousand items on my list
of absolutely musts and shoulds and mights
…How is a girl to stave off being pissed
About responsibilities’ mad flights
through quantum realms of things still left undone?
I fear the race is o’er before ‘tis run.
Yeah, Julie's feeling a little cranky these days, but she was a sport to crank out a sonnet anyway. She made it look so easy, I decided to try my hand. Since I was reading Michael's sermon, I thought I would rewrite it as a sonnet. Almost three hours later, this is what I came up with:
Syrophoenician woman, like a dog
you wait for crumbs of bread to heal your child.
You break convention, touch the man, agog,
insist that no one should be spurned, reviled.
In you Jesus confronts the demon fear:
of woman, gentile, unclean foreigner.
Not just the food he shared beside the pier
is clean, but also now the soul in her
your child. Her soul, your courage magnifies
the Lord, expands his heart and shows him now
what love can make us see through clearer eyes,
and hearts can strive to make their solemn vow:
with no exceptions, never, now nor then,
all People Matter. Lord we say amen!
Julie points out that "Jesus" in the fifth line is not really an iamb, but that it's actually a "substitute foot" that focuses your attention on Jesus. And I just want to be clear that was totally intentional on my part.
I don't think I've ever written a sonnet before, but it was kind of fun. I might write another one soon. I double dare you to give it a try!