To Patrick, Sonnet (working on it) Options

[Psyche]

http://ibpc.webdelsol.com/2022/04

FIRST PLACE
To Patrick
by Sylvia Maclagan
Babilu

my son, who died aged 29 of ALS/Lou Gehrig’s disease.

I’ll just dream these lines, since you’re no longer here;
your voice, your laughter and your soul
are sunflowers in the summer air; I know you stole
their light to fill my waking hours with Irish cheer.

My love for you is wedded to the morning’s
elemental time, a coffee cup and friendly chat.
I spy the raindrops sparkling on your jaunty cap
my heart recalls each time the doorbell rings

three times. I hear the lively flute you’d play
for many radiant years; and in the knowledge
that you were going to die, I prized Commencement Day,

the youngster in the park who sketched your image
on artist’s paper. I know God shows the way,
absence, instants in life’s troubled pilgrimage.


What draws applause for the most celebrated elegies is a control on emotional chaos: the heart’s restraint so that art can commence. This control is what we experience in this carefully crafted elegy for a son. The loss of a loved one alters our daily lives – and, as this poem portrays, the most ordinary sights and sounds can become an unending requiem: “my heart recalls each time the doorbell rings/ three times. I hear the lively flute you'd play … and in the knowledge/ that you were going to die, I prized Commencement Day.” Plenty of room for sentimentality here –and yet, in verse lines that attend to a measured form, this poem achieves a beautifully-measured portrait of enduring love. --M.B. McLatchey








First revision (still needs many changes)

To Patrick

I'll dream these lines, since you're no longer here;
your voice, your laughter and your soul
are sunflowers in the summer air; you stole
their light to fill my hours with Irish cheer.

My love for you is wedded to the morning's
elemental time, coffee cup, friendly chat.
I spy raindrops sparkling on your jaunty cap
my heart recalls each time the doorbell rings

three times. I hear the lively flute you'd play
for many radiant years; and in the knowledge
you were going to die, I prized Commencement Day,

the youngster in the park who sketched your image
on artist's paper. I know God shows the way;
absence, instants in life's troubled pilgrimage.


Original


To Patrick

I’ll just dream these lines, since you’re no longer here;
Your voice, your laughter and your soul
Are sunflowers in the summer air; I know you stole
Their light to fill my waking hours with Irish cheer.

My love for you is wedded to the morning’s
Elemental time, a coffee cup and friendly chat.
I spy the raindrops sparkling on your jaunty cap
My heart recalls each time the doorbell rings

Three times. I hear the lively flute you’d play
For many radiant years; and in the knowledge
That you were going to die, I prized Commencement Day,

The artist in the park who sketched your image
On tawny paper. I know God shows the way,
absence, instants in life’s blessèd pilgrimage.

I've done my best, Daniel. I'm sure you can make it a lot better. Thanks so much for helping. These poems mean a lot to me.

Hi again, Daniel. Could you please show me exactly how you think I should combine "pilgrimage" with "knowledge" and "image". I'm hopeless at this sort of stuff.

[JustDaniel]

First of all, Sylvia, I know nothing at all about Sylvia Plath's "Wuthering Heights" (nor what it might have had to do with Bronte's work, about which I also know nothing)

Secondly, your rhyme scheme nearly follows one of the two typical rhyme schemes of the Petrarchan Sonnet, namely abba abba cdc cdc, though your final triad goes dcd.

Thirdly, most such sonnet begin with a question or proposition in the opening octet and closes with an answer or resolution in the closing sestet. I'm not sure yours does, but frankly that is of little consequence to me!

Fourthly, almost all such sonnets are written in iambic pentameter. The THRUST of your lines are iambic, but their length varies greatly:

I’ll just dream these lines, since you’re no longer here; - starts with trochee, 11 sylables
Your voice, your laughter and your soul - iambic, 8 syllables
Are sunflowers in the summer air; I know you stole - varied meter, 13 syllables
Their light to fill my waking hours with Irish cheer. - iambic, 12 syllables

My love for you is wedded to the morning’s - iambic, closing in feminine ending, 11 syllables
Elemental time, a coffee cup and friendly chat. - trochee, 13 syllables
I spy the raindrops sparkling on your jaunty cap - iambic, 12 syllables
My heart recalls each time the doorbell rings - good iambic pentameter w/ one variation

Three times. I hear the lively flute you’d play - good iambic pentameter
For many radiant years; and in the knowledge - IP w/feminine ending (11 syllables)
That you were going to die, I prized Commencement Day, - iambic but varied, 13 syllables

The artist in the park who sketched your image - IP w/feminine ending (11 syllables)
On tawny paper. I know God shows the way, - iambic to trochee, 11 syllables
absence, instants in life’s blessèd pilgrimage. - trochee to iambic, 11 syllables


Well, there is my first look. Not sure whether that helps or discourages, Sylvia.


Lightly critiquing, Daniel

[Psyche]

First of all, Sylvia, I know nothing at all about Sylvia Plath's "Wuthering Heights" (nor what it might have had to do with Bronte's work, about which I also know nothing)

Secondly, your rhyme scheme nearly follows one of the two typical rhyme schemes of the Petrarchan Sonnet, namely abba abba cdc cdc, though your final triad goes dcd.

Thirdly, most such sonnet begin with a question or proposition in the opening octet and closes with an answer or resolution in the closing sestet. I'm not sure yours does, but frankly that is of little consequence to me!

Fourthly, almost all such sonnets are written in iambic pentameter. The THRUST of your lines are iambic, but their length varies greatly:

I’ll just dream these lines, since you’re no longer here; - starts with trochee, 11 sylables
Your voice, your laughter and your soul - iambic, 8 syllables
Are sunflowers in the summer air; I know you stole - varied meter, 13 syllables
Their light to fill my waking hours with Irish cheer. - iambic, 12 syllables

My love for you is wedded to the morning’s - iambic, closing in feminine ending, 11 syllables
Elemental time, a coffee cup and friendly chat. - trochee, 13 syllables
I spy the raindrops sparkling on your jaunty cap - iambic, 12 syllables
My heart recalls each time the doorbell rings - good iambic pentameter w/ one variation

Three times. I hear the lively flute you’d play - good iambic pentameter
For many radiant years; and in the knowledge - IP w/feminine ending (11 syllables)
That you were going to die, I prized Commencement Day, - iambic but varied, 13 syllables

The artist in the park who sketched your image - IP w/feminine ending (11 syllables)
On tawny paper. I know God shows the way, - iambic to trochee, 11 syllables
absence, instants in life’s blessèd pilgrimage. - trochee to iambic, 11 syllables


Well, there is my first look. Not sure whether that helps or discourages, Sylvia.


Lightly critiquing, Daniel

You're of great help, Daniel, thank you so much. I've been away from MM because I was not feeling too great. I'll take my "sonnet" to a Word.doc and try to get it right...or nearly so!

[JustDaniel]

Hoping you'll feel better soon! Take your time... and your sonnet is worth the effort, for sure!

[Psyche]

Hoping you'll feel better soon! Take your time... and your sonnet is worth the effort, for sure!

I posted a revised version of To Patrick and fixed the titles. It still needs the meter fixed, if that is at all possible. Thank you so much, Daniel

[JustDaniel]

Here is something that I think takes your thoughts (to the best of my ability) and transports them into IP. Please see what you think, and take as your own or toss whatever you please. The main thing is to enable you to see a way toward accomplishing IP:

I'll dream these lines, since you're no longer here;
your voice, your laughter and your wholesome soul
are sunflow'rs in the summer air; you stole
their light to fill my hours with Irish cheer.

My love for you is wedded to the morn's
essential time of coffee, friendly chat.
Spy raindrops sparkling on your jaunty cap
my heart recalls each time the doorbell warns

three times. I hear the lively flute you'd play
for many radiant years; the thoughts cascade
of coming death, I prized Commencement Day,

the park where youngster sketched your face arrayed
on artist's pad. I know God shows the way...
your absence, instants in life's dark crusade

[Psyche]

Here is something that I think takes your thoughts (to the best of my ability) and transports them into IP. Please see what you think, and take as your own or toss whatever you please. The main thing is to enable you to see a way toward accomplishing IP:

I'll dream these lines, since you're no longer here;
your voice, your laughter and your wholesome soul
are sunflow'rs in the summer air; you stole
their light to fill my hours with Irish cheer.

My love for you is wedded to the morn's
essential time of coffee, friendly chat.
Spy raindrops sparkling on your jaunty cap
my heart recalls each time the doorbell warns

three times. I hear the lively flute you'd play
for many radiant years; the thoughts cascade
of coming death, I prized Commencement Day,

the park where youngster sketched your face arrayed
on artist's pad. I know God shows the way...
your absence, instants in life's dark crusade

Dear Daniel, thank you for working so well on this sonnet. I shall have to study it a while and see whether all the changes are OK with me. For now, it's absolutely wonderful. I may take issue, tomorrow, with some of the changes, but not many. As I'm tired now, I don't think I can do more Acropolis, but I may return later, not promising.
Hope you rest well, Sylvia

[Psyche]

Here is something that I think takes your thoughts (to the best of my ability) and transports them into IP. Please see what you think, and take as your own or toss whatever you please. The main thing is to enable you to see a way toward accomplishing IP:

I'll dream these lines, since you're no longer here;
your voice, your laughter and your wholesome soul
are sunflow'rs in the summer air; you stole
their light to fill my hours with Irish cheer.

My love for you is wedded to the morn's
essential time of coffee, friendly chat.
Spy raindrops sparkling on your jaunty cap
my heart recalls each time the doorbell warns

three times. I hear the lively flute you'd play
for many radiant years; the thoughts cascade
of coming death, I prized Commencement Day,

the park where youngster sketched your face arrayed
on artist's pad. I know God shows the way...
your absence, instants in life's dark crusade

Dear Daniel, thank you for working so well on this sonnet. I shall have to study it a while and see whether all the changes are OK with me. For now, it's absolutely wonderful. I may take issue, tomorrow, with some of the changes, but not many. As I'm tired now, I don't think I can do more Acropolis, but I may return later, not promising.
Hope you rest well, Sylvia

Dear Daniel, you've done a terrific job fixing the IP. I wonder whether you can do it once more, but without changing so many of my words, especially the end rhymes? I feel that I haven't written it the way it is now. So perhaps you could re-arrange the lines? Thank you so much for your patience with me, Sylvia

[JustDaniel]

I'm afraid that "knowledge" and "pilgrimage" simply cannot end a line of IP

They could be included, e.g. as

The knowledge...
A pilgrimage...

but not as an opening or closing word. Make sense?

[Psyche]

I'm afraid that "knowledge" and "pilgrimage" simply cannot end a line of IP

The could be included, e.g. as

The knowledge...
A pilgrimage...

but not as an opening or closing word. Make sense?

Yes, I'll try to fit it in, as you say. Thanks a lot, Daniel.

[Psyche]

I'm afraid that "knowledge" and "pilgrimage" simply cannot end a line of IP

The could be included, e.g. as

The knowledge...
A pilgrimage...

but not as an opening or closing word. Make sense?

Yes, I'll try to fit it in, as you say. Thanks a lot, Daniel.

Hi again Daniel, I'm wondering whether you know a word that rhymes with pilgrimage instead of knowledge. Or maybe two words? I don't know how to re-arrange those words inside a line. Thank you for all your trouble helping me.

[JustDaniel]

allege
dredge
fledge
hedge
ledge
pledge
sledge
drainage
old age
assuage
engage
offstage
sage
page
gauge
upstage

[Psyche]

allege
dredge
fledge
hedge
ledge
pledge
sledge
drainage
old age
assuage
engage
offstage
sage
page
gauge
upstage

Thank you Daniel. Maybe I can fit in "pledge", but not sure how. I'll study it and come back.