Sonnets and More — Paweł Markiewicz

Unendingly picturesque

a pulchritudinous sonnet

I am through a superb window—looking.
An angel of feeling awakes in me.
The dreamy oak-trees stand alway leafless.
The native auspicious cue is just large.

My scenery—the enchanted verdure.
The moony old barn of Ted my dear nuncle.
I am looking at a proud throng of crows.
They belong to the whiff of every times.

The springtide looks so meek-beauteous-fair,
first and foremost the Morningstar—at night.
I daydream springwards window-view withal
of a dreamy Ovidian summer gale.


Homelike herbage that seems to bewitch all.
My cats want to enchant the fantasy.
The dreamed subtle morn withal notably.

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The spring awakening

The springtide wakes up not only in dreams.
The snowdrops blooming in the moony garths.
One listens to propitious paradise.
The dearest graylag geese coming in flocks.

I think of Primula from afar.
The wild boar piglets were born in a grove.
I feel springwards the warmness of a soul.
Native dreameries are fulfilled galore.

Springtide be primeval home of Naiads!
I taste the verdure of some dreamed climes.
You are dreamy like fairylike bouts.
The friends of springy morn—are tender owls.

I can praise and bewitch Ovidianly.
Thus, I am able to enchant peaceably.

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merest poet

You hound are a starry night over fog,
fallen in love with the Epiphany.
The moon may be mine! Told the moony dog.
With you tender garden—is so dreamy.

Bewitchment of stars, your ability.
Your hunting is dearer observation.
A moonlit night is your eternity.
May the soft ghost be in adoration!

Roses awoken in glory—starlet.
You can taste, listen and feel them galore.
Enchant the nectar like druidic glade!
It was drunk from Ovidian amphorae.

Be, you dog, a heart-shaped meek poet!
Broken wings of loneliness are dead.

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Elegy

Lunar time feeling—coll, blackish dreams stealing—light of the moonlets.
Caressing dreamery—lies even, blink-sea, weird fell down.

The poignant dire deceased became drab comet—sphere have picked warmness.
Several she-wolves made terrestrial grave-stones killed the fay?

Endlessly nostalgic being—the grief-pang. Hades was followed.
Heavenly moony lure become noir. Dream-ethics flies off!

However your worm bawls after all. Death-men blubbing so withal.
Just the grim Reapers, cold-blooded praise wind-breeze of gone time.

The tearful- invincible  Goblinlets  stars-thieves coming right galore.
Sensing the moonylike demise cool-blue song will be free.

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The Sonnet of Dreams

Heavenly sailorling spy out the wan light-sheen of star.
Baffling unearthly time: weird having just thieved by elves.
One of pale mornings longs for some meek fulfillment of night.
Moony and nostalgic chums – comets are upon the skies.

Lonely dreamery—lying just blink-sea, weird above.
Endless nostalgia is being of pang. Hades is fay.
Heavenly moony lure, beings seem dark, Ethics fly off!
Poignant decease has become drab black, comet has picked rain.

The glow, which is deathless, at length in the sadness full bane.
Grim Reaper loves more than You dream—a bit lights of the worms.
Marvel of starlit night: I have found a little of my name.
Starry night—dreamy glow are only in the tender souls.

Sensing the moonlet, demise of cool-blue song will be free.
Your worm bawls after all certainly. Death blubbing like me.

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alway – archaic: always
bout – dance
cue – archaic: mood
garth – archaic: garden
nuncle – archaic: uncle
pulchritudinous – beautiful

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©2021 Paweł Markiewicz
All rights reserved