Nona's Poetry Corner

Out of the quarrel with others we make rhetoric; out of the quarrel with ourselves we make poetry. (W.B. Yeats) Here lies that which is inside no more, that which burns my mind and must be expelled. Here lies the greatest of all inventions. Here lies words.

Sunday, November 29, 2015

Denouement

I cannot think of red roses Or boxes of chocolates right now; There's no romantic dinners Or strolls by the beach after dark. It hurts t...

In my darkest hour

In my darkest hour You shone a light A beacon bright In the deep, dark night You returned the smile to my voice With barely a...

Inconceivable

Inconceivable That I may aspire To such lofty heights In heart and mind As those ill-fated lovers, Romeo and Juliet. Intolerable That I shou...

What sight for sore eyes

What sight for sore eyes Stands before me now; What grand majesty Before which I must bow? Do I dare to look, Captured by a glance; Incomple...

Monday, April 27, 2015

On nothing

If I told you how I feel about you That would make me as bad as you. Maybe even the fact I feel this way Means I already am. I don'...

Sunday, April 26, 2015

Foray into the Unknown

Should I take that first step, Tentative and more than unsure, Into a new arena Where I enter blind? I cannot fathom what might be, Wh...

Saturday, April 25, 2015

A Letter to a Lover Never Known

If I could but send this letter So much happier I might be Knowing that you sought to receive it And thought warmly of me. My hand trem...

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Nona Rose

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