SONNET

stands trite and desolate the thirsty shrub
the earth is wrung of water drop by drop
leaf after leaf the chlorophyll is robbed
i see summer’s burnt hue from root to top.

the soil boasts not of her black tektites now
she’s laden with mosaics of tawny leaves
warm and dead the breezes of april blow
plants and gods scorch, pods writhe and cybele grieves
and grieving will she shed her vernal tears
asperge and impregnate the barren earth
then quenched, this trite desolate shrub will bear
leaves for my art, propitiation at birth.

o come again imbue my desert land
drink of the shrub, ichor of the god’s hand.

-VIRGILIO LUMICAO

Advertisements

2 comments

  1. SONNET

    stands trite and desolate the* thirsty shrub
    the earth is wrung of water drop by drop
    leaf after leaf the chlorophyll is robbed
    i see summer’s burnt hue from root to top.

    the soil boasts not of her black tektites now
    she’s laden with mosaics of tawny leaves
    warm and dead the breezes of april blow
    plants and gods scorch, pods writhe and cybele grieves
    and grieving will she shed her vernal tears
    asperge and impregnate the barren earth
    then quenched, this trite desolate shrub will bear
    leaves for my art, propitiation at birth.

    o come again imbue my desert land
    drink of the shrub, ichor of the God’s hand**.

    -VIRGILIO B. LUMICAO

    * replaced “and” with “the”
    ** added “hand”.
    I remember writing this poem in 1970 and publishing it in Republic Magazine.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s