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Sonnet of the flesh

for "The Sonnet of Shadows" challenge #2

By Imola TóthPublished about a year ago • Updated 12 months ago • 2 min read
Sonnet of the flesh
Photo by Mathias Reding on Unsplash

We found her where the moss had made its bed,

bones shimmering, bared by the autumn rain;

wild flowers twined about her ribs and head,

every root beneath was drunk on a crimson stain.

.

I touched this beauty — cold, yet sweet with pain,

her flesh, once warm, now feast for worms to take,

the woods embraced the silence of her vein,

but life, oh this ol' mistress, never made a mistake.

.

Why, oh why do I feel this piercing ache?

She's none but a deer, breath withdrawn,

her ruin blooms, stirs the forest—me, awake,

I grieve the unknown that now is gone.

.

Oh death, your beauty is born from decay,

she sleeps, yet lovelier than words could say.

I wanted to write something for "The Sonnet of Shadows" challenge that’s equal parts beautiful and grotesque. A sonnet where decay becomes a metaphor for love and beauty — both the fleeting, sensual nature of it, and its persistence even beyond ruin.

I decided to go with the Spencerian sonnet again, with the rhyme scheme of abab bcbcb cdcd ee. Which I don't know how much I nailed because my mind goes blank whenever I try to find rhyming words. (Don't even think of expecting a iambic pentameter from me in English... It wasn't mentioned in the prompt anyway...)

The idea to write about it came when the other day we passed by a corpse of a deer that was hit by a car, and just left there by the road. It reminded me of one of my favorite poems, The Carcass by Baudelaire. Just as with my other entry — The Grapes of Putrescence.

I find plenty of decaying animal corpses in the forest, among other odd things, and I always find them somewhat disgusting yet captivating. I always feel sad for a lost life and shed some tears for all of them.

Death can be heart wrenching, but I still find something beautiful in the circle of life, no matter what stage.

I never liked sonnets because most of what we read at school were cheesy, all about love but after doing some research I figured people wrote all kinds of creepy, dark and disturbing sonnets. So why not give a try?

nature poetrySonnet

About the Creator

Imola Tóth

Just a chaotic draft goblin from the forest.

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    Written by Imola Tóth