Sonnet XLV: Time of Times

©Olan L. Smith, 5-14-23

Time-of-times and day-of-days, where gods arrange

Help, yet, feel the path where we ablaze our fair.

In gloomy drabness on lips of fire will snare

Sorrow's hope and smothered pleasures and derange

Death before birth's first pangs. Here, farrows grange,

And anger's madness is heard. A barbed prayer

Yearns for life, born to die, promises are rare,

Forever out of reach upon the Teton Range 

Or temporal planes. Our gods' incorporeal spin;

Reminiscent of their victories won,

Mother's breasts bare for the suckle end-run,

Open bosoms invite creatures here-between,

Members of the society of chagrin,

Search the universe for descendants of the sun.

A/N This sonnet is a Petrarchan style sonnet, or Italian sonnet. Unlike the English sonnet, it doesn't use the down, up, or lilt of iambic pentameter, and it livens the movement, IMO. You will find not all lines are 10 syllables long, but several are 11 syllables in length, hendecasyllable. This style of poem is in two stanzas; the first is eight lines long, and the other is six, octave and sestet, with a rhyme scheme in this case of abba abba, cddecd.