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    A Cast of Sonnets
    A Cast of Sonnets
    A Cast of Sonnets
    Ebook88 pages36 minutes

    A Cast of Sonnets

    By Steve Morgan

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    About this ebook

    Modern sonnets with rhyme and meanings for readers hungry for traditional poetry.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherBookBaby
    Release dateJan 27, 2014
    ISBN9781483517407
    A Cast of Sonnets
    Author

    Steve Morgan

    Born into a Christian family, in 1971, Steve applied himself to an extensive study of Christianity through the 1990’s. Leading to a departure from the faith in the mid 2000’s. In 2012 Steve was forced into retirement with a disability. Since, his life has grown with several interests emerging. An amateur parrot breeder, amateur Colour Pencil artist, writer, reader & avid lawn Bowler. Is a fan of quality film, documentaries, & intelligent comedy: “Fluffy”, & Bill Bailey. He has an ever widening assortment of interests; Current affairs, quirky history, Stoicism, philosophy, & Egyptian History. Never married, he lives alone in regional Victoria, Australia, with his beloved parrots. Interest in paronomasia, & neologisms began in earnest during the worlds longest lockdown in Victoria, Australia during the recent Covid-19 pandemic, 2021. Producing The Standard Religiously Irrelevant Version, a parodied edition of several Christian folklore.

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      Book preview

      A Cast of Sonnets - Steve Morgan

      Ceremony at Lone Tree

      On the Nebraska plains a lone tree stands

      testament to surviving in a tested climate,

      where bands of Lakotah met and legends

      kept and now the land is serene and quiet.

      Being there alone with a tree, settling down

      with his back against the bark, the endless

      skyline, the wind constant, the day his own,

      far from buildings and people and the mess

      they make of everything natural, on a day

      so fine he brings it all inward, expanding

      as immense as the land, in reverie with a

      tree, improbably hearing a tree declaring,

      We Are You, jolting him into knowing the

      impossible: and then appear many Indians,

      forming a chorus and chanting, Heyápi Wana

      Heyápi, which spans centuries and transcends

      to eternity until he finds himself back again

      to the tree and nothing has changed but him.

      Going Home or Barbara Davis

      I could hardly wait to get away from home

      and soon as I was of age I joined the Navy,

      but I found out it wasn't nearly as awesome

      as it was advertised and no fun being away.

      So I planned on returning after getting out,

      and on the way I managed to sit next to this

      pretty girl, and we hit it off and made out

      and who cared about those sneaking looks.

      She said she was getting off at the next place

      and begged me to come with her, and geez

      how badly I wanted to be with Barbara Davis,

      but I waved at her from the window as she

      walked away then backward gave a glance,

      and I wished for years I had made no plans.

      Tonto Knows

      Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;

      Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,

      The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere

      The ceremony of innocence is drowned;

      W.B.Yeats

      Those White-Knight straight-shooter Cowboys

      Who rode the dusty cinema trails on Trigger and Champion

      To territories ahead mapped finely into mythos

      Came out unmanned finally by Brokeback Mountain.

      Happy trails Roy Rogers, Lone Ranger, and Hopalong.

      Yippie-yi-ki-yay,Yippie-yay-ki-yi, Goodbye.

      Hello from that silver screen on high looking down

      Upon an indulgent new world and wondering why

      The directors and producers scurry to turn gold to gross

      And everyone's an actor pretending black is white

      While the Will-o'-the-Wisp whispers it's no Holy Ghost

      And the Indian Nations whoop as prophecies ignite

      Into alignment where the end of the trail plays out.

      But Tonto knows, and shrugs, and spurs on Scout.

      More than Enough

      for Euphrosyne, Thalia, and Aglaia

      If I could measure charm,

      Three would exceed the limit,

      Those alluring azure eyes

      Trip my alarm.

      If I could joy quantify,

      Three would be bundles,

      Those shapely long limbs

      Disarm me.

      If I could your splendors snare,

      I would be the one held

      In service to beauty,

      In thrall and not care.

      Even as I loyalty swear,

      Three could be too much to bear.

      Still Waiting

      Dear Lord, send me a man,

      So few around anymore,

      Dear Lord,

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