Sonnet of the White Rose
Am I the quintessence of innocence?
So be it. But I have thorns. Is this not
paradox? Oh lovely dualesence!
Why do you pluck me? Is it then my lot
to be plucked and thrust into that clear vase
that any may adore me? Or ignore?
What a fortune for beauty! To serve base
lust, to please the eye-poetry implore . . .
Oh, but are we all not symbolic? Words
that suggest, but never are the true thing?
Though in voices pure as heaven some sing,
are we more than melodies, songbirds’
piping to the moment? We are but white
petals blown by fragrant breeze and sunlight.
David M Pitchford 92807
I wrote this in response to a poem by
You should check out her blog – especially if you like free verse poetry. Soulful.
My lovely wife, a very fine poet, have written a dialogue in sonnets going back to, well, I think 2001 or so. There’s not enough of that going on; or at least I haven’t seen it. Someone, sorry not me, should open a forum or blog or online workshop in which poets could converse in verse. Reply to a sonnet with a sonnet, or a villanelle for a sestina, or free-verse response to a pantoum or whatever. Thoughts? Sound fun?