Fog abates the darkening cut of shore
With fingers’ brush of water’s airy reach,
While vessels’ breath breaks for what lies before
And mutters kyries in halting speech.
Sea’s bracing grip around uncertain hull
Spurs maddening heart to clutch love’s image,
For the muffled croon of the distant gull
Cannot dissuade thoughts of an icy cage.
Yet, through this cold, deceiving – pillowed – air,
The gentle angel’s light, in pulses warm,
Dispels the needless, pressing weight of cares
That drip and drift to sea’s consuming swarm.
A rose blooms red atop the rocky shore,
Beginning a path to peace evermore.
On a family trip to Maine this summer, 2022, we visited Two Lights in Cape Elizabeth. It was a foggy day, which disappointed some. I love a good fog. There’s a mystery behind it, an unknown that makes my imagination wander.
This particular picture inspired me to write my first swing at a sonnet. I chose the Shakespearian sonnet style (also known as Elizabethan or English), with the ABAB CDCD EFEF GG rhyming pattern and the iambic pentameter with ten syllables per line.
a tilting of air 