The Result.

Then onto Districts. I had a week to write the new poem (as I said, I didn't like the sonnet that much). In that week I wrote a few random poems out of sheer frustrations, a few crappy drafts that aren't worth posting even on here, and finally, after much thought and re-working, came up with this. I even titled it (as crappy as that title is. lol).

"Ruminations on the Romantic"

Brought into this wide and wild garden,

Walled and secret, no one knocking,

I found and felt the openness of loneliness

And it was good; it meant righteousness

Because You, God, were found

Digging fingers deep into the ground.

Planting every bloom and flinging color,

Exploding perfectly each day in plots of clover:

Creations as magnificent as Your supernovan space.

I'm pure in heart; I know I've seen Your face.

Glorified and glowing, love itself alight,

You caught and carried me, a firefly at night,

Down to this grove. I see your curling hand

At work because of innocence. Land

And loam, all churned and plowed for spring,

Waiting for the sowing to begin.

A garden grown into a million rows,

Ready for those cleaving vows -

Oh Father, You know best. One blink

And futures fall. A dawn once pink

Lies black and blue at daybreak's drift;

I cringe and see the quickness of the shift,

And am afraid. The garden ages. Drought - rain -

Seasons change - but this remains:

Your love has kept me well, and ever will.

One of those random poems:

souls, clammy as cold,

one when love meets

in points unmatched

brought to teeth-and-

marked with God, suck

all this life through your

green straw and fling

all your will to the wind.

on this side of that

rainbow, I've found your

pot. you're old and gummy,

speech too runny to find

any sense. well, old Midas,

meet your granddaughter.