What is this that breaks through yonder window?
It lights the room in the darkness of night
What is waking me at this hour now?
It cannot be the sun, for it is not bright
My tentative feet set down on the floor
And slowly I stand, my breathing unsteady
The light is sweet; I fall prey to its lure
I think to myself "Oh, what could it be?"
I reach up my hand against the cool glass
My curious eyes looking through the pane
I see the beautiful gleaming lights pass
And alas, my fearfulness was in vain
For now I see with my widening eyes
The ethereal glow of fireflies.
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Random Collection of Original Sonnets
PoetryI just love writing sonnets and I thought I would share some. They are all written Shakespearean style; in Iambic Pentameter with 14 lines and an ABABCDCDEFEFGG rhyme scheme.
