The Merry Month of May Sonnets

I know. Y'all are getting sick of the poetry influx that's been a-happenin' over on Vocal Media lately. "Sonnets?" you balked. "What next? This has got to stop."

And me? Here I am, typing away, a grin on my face because I love the feel of stringing words together in pretty ways that nonetheless have meaning. I love prose that's so purple it's like a bruise, so why would you expect my love for poetry to be any different?

Lest anyone think I'm putting my bragging hat on, I'm not. I just really enjoy writing all forms of poetry, and Vocal's recent challenges for poetry have been like a new doorway opening for me. I don't ever expect to be a professional poet—I'm not someone like Amanda Gorman—but I do so enjoy putting stanzas together and making them "click" in the best possible way (or attempting to do so, at least).

I've included below the sonnets I wrote the last week of May leading up to the deadline for the Summer's Day challenge. Though I did attempt more, these are ones that were "traditional" (in the Shakespearean sense), alluded to summer in some contextual way, and were written before June 1st.

Enjoy!

"A Pulse in the Dark" - Fireworks and stolen moments, oh my

Fireworks are a mainstay in summer for me. Even though I have a love-hate relationship with them—I think of all the animals that scare away from the noise and the veterans who probably recall bomb fire from times of war—they are lovely to see in their bursts of color across the canvas of the night sky.

I think back to the times I bonded with people below a firework-laden sky. I reminisce, I miss, and I long for easier times when I was a kid who just didn't know better.

Now I'm an adult who looks at the sky and feels smaller than ever.

"Dear Sam" - Ode to a friend I still miss to this day

I am a person who hates falling out of friendships. If I invest time in a person, I expect that person to do the same for me—but sometimes that just doesn't happen.

One summer, someone walked out of my life and never came back. And I was devastated from the loss for a time. I wondered what was wrong with me—or maybe with him. It was hard to say where the blame lay.

That kind of loss has left its imprint on my heart, to the point that I keep my guard up more and more as years go by.

Most of all, I guess I hate being left behind.

"Fifteen" - Growing pains ahoy!

Age fifteen was a bad year for me. I closed myself off from friends and tried to "find myself"—whatever that means anymore—in new ways. But, looking back, I think I was just running away.

It's so hard to realize that growing up isn't as glamorous as you once thought it would be. The adults around you act like they have all the answers—they don't, they're just winging it like everyone else—but you look up to them and think they will be there to help you pick up the pieces of whatever you break.

Sometimes it's not that simple. Sometimes the adults will let you down. Sometimes you have to be the adult yourself long before you feel you're ready.

Fifteen—I don't miss you.

"My Sunflower Girl" - The summer I spent tending plants with my grandpa

My grandpa was almost eighty when I was born, but he and I shared a special bond when it was the height of summer and he gardened every day, no matter the rising temperatures.

He would sing nonsense words to me in his broken English, and I would mimic him and follow him around the garden's landscape, hours slipping away as the sun crested across the sky.

To this day, my grandpa's still the best man I've ever known. He always made me feel loved and protected, and I still cherish every memory I have of him.

Summer just isn't the same without him.

"Drowning Girls" - The day I almost drowned

Yes, I almost drowned in a swimming pool while no one else was around. It was not a good summer memory, but it happened. And I'm still wary of taking to the water, no matter where it happens to be.

But that memory did give me perspective. We have only one life to live, and it can be gone away with a snap of the fingers. We're that fragile, that finite.

I can still remember almost choking on the water and thinking, "This is it. This is how it ends."

But no. I managed to fight through the panic. And I'm still here for another day.

"Thoughts of Running Away From Home" - That time I almost ran away as a teen

Summers were always hard with my parents. With no distraction from school, I would often retreat back into my own little world to get away from the way my parents would ignite in arguments.

After a while, I just got sick of it, and I really contemplated leaving. But where would I go? What kind of life would I lead? Would I even survive?

I know it was a phase of teenage rebellion rearing up, but I really did think, "Maybe I'd be better off without my parents."

It wasn't an easy decision to stay. But I was still naïve and dependent, so sure I couldn't last even one moment without the help of my parents. No, they weren't abusive or neglectful, but I still felt restricted in such a way that I wouldn't feel free until months after my mother passed away when I was twenty-two.

Teenage angst, maybe, but it felt so detrimental at the time.

"A Lick of Strawberry Ice Cream" - Soothing memories of cold ice cream on the tongue

I'm not a big ice cream eater, but I always make an exception when it comes to small ice cream parlors that make homemade offerings. This sonnet in particular was inspired by an ice cream shop I went to in the Outer Banks of North Carolina. Every taste was just so refreshing.

Honestly, though, I should have made an ode to peach ice cream—a favorite I found just last summer. I can't wait to have a scoop this summer since it was just so good!

(I know. Ice cream and summer. How cliché can you get? But it was a fun little sonnet to write.)

"Losing My Wits in July" - Not clickbait, I promise

I was diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder eight summers ago. I felt like I was losing my mind, and it was only after I got some much-needed help did the clouds begin to part. There was a name for what I'd been experiencing, and there were—thank goodness—ways to treat it easily.

That July in 2013, I didn't realize how I would come to be a mental health advocate, however small, in what I write and how I see the world.

Some days I struggle and wonder, "Why me?" But most days I just persist because that's what everyone, no matter the circumstance, has to do.

We just have to be better for each other. That's all.

"The Pages Flew By That Summer" - The books were long-lost loves of a kind

Those summers when I retreated into my own little sphere, I turned to books for solace and companionship. It was such a small joy, and I think back and wonder how I would ever have managed to cope otherwise.

Books ignited a hope in me that things would be okay—that I would be okay.

In the years since, I've fallen out of habit with reading books. I would love to reclaim that easy kind of relationship with books again, but my writer brain gets in the way a tad too much. Once you start constructing stories yourself, you start to see the flaws in every work you chance to read. It can get a bit exhausting, finding the holes in plot and character, but that's how my brain works in regards to stories these days.

I hope one summer day soon I can sit with a stack of books beside me and lose myself again in the words of someone else's story.

"Swimming Lessons" - The kind of love that never wins

Ever had that one person that you go to every great length to please? Yeah. Me too. It's so difficult, isn't it? And you're never, ever enough.

I want to believe in finding love that betters instead of tears down, but sadly it's a bit harder to find that I ever thought possible.

What you need is the kind of love that makes you grow and prosper. Don't let anyone make you feel like a weed that needs to be trampled away.

I'll try to remember too.

"Starfish" - A boy too good to be true...

Have you ever been in love with the wrong person?

I'm sure many of us have—and by "wrong person," it could be the personality or timing that doesn't mesh.

But sometimes you realize it's better to be alone. Why cut yourself to pieces in the process of being what you think the other person wants? It's not real love then.

Change, if you must, but also be true to yourself. That guy may have a nice smile and offer pleasantries—but he may not be what you need at the end of the day.

He may be just a passing ghost in your life.

"The Season for Deep Breaths" - Sometimes you just need to relax

I think time gets away from all of us in one way or another. For me, I often feel that summer is here one moment and, a blink later, gone into the next trek towards winter skies.

Summer is also a busy time. People go on vacation, have get-togethers in their backyards, and just spend a lot of time doing, doing, doing till they feel spent.

I get the allure of trying to pack as much possible into a short span of time, but really? What is it worth if you're not stopping to breathe and bask in the living moment you're having right now?

I get it: I was a fulfilled life too, and having a busy schedule is one way to make yourself feel that your life is full and worthwhile. But don't forget to take a break and feel once in a while. You may enjoy your time all the more then.

"Take Me to the Garden" - An epiphany of summer loves and longings

Summer is a time for romance. It's true. But that romance doesn't always have to be about people: it could be about the nature around us too.

Yet...

When I walk a garden's paths, I think of how much I long for a hand to hold as I pass the time. I see them all the time at the botanic garden I go to every few months—the couples, the families, the quiet contentment fallen over them like a blanket.

Sometimes someone catches my eye, and I look away, lest I be caught staring.

The truth is that I don't think anyone wants to end up alone, wandering through a garden lonesome, but some of us really have no choice in the matter.

I tell myself that love is a thing that just hasn't sprouted in my garden yet. But maybe someday.

"Remembering a Four-Year-Old's Birthday Party" - Just another memory for the jar

I look at little kids and think, "You have no idea what's waiting up ahead for you, yet you're still smiling like you have the keys to the universe."

I'm getting to be a crotchety, old adult over here with my cynicism. Sometimes I wish for the freedom of childhood. As a thirty-year-old woman, sometimes I feel like I'm in shackles of my own making.

Still, I smile at the kids and wish I could warn them in soothing tones. But what do I know? I'm still learning too. I haven't got this adult game thing down yet, and it's been over a decade since I left my teen years behind.

So where do we go from here? I guess we just wait for the kids to grow up and learn from their mistakes just like we're still doing.

And so it goes...

"My First Trip to Europe" - Oh, how I'd love to return...

I went to Europe when I was twenty-six at the height of summer. I saw beautiful things, I silently crushed on one of the tour guides I'll never see again, and I was in amazement at how slow life in Europe was.

The daily grind in the United States is what gets to me. Work, work, work. And if you're lucky you get to play on the weekends. You do all this until you retire for your golden years—if you're even able to retire.

In Europe it wasn't like that. The stores all closed at six o'clock. There wasn't rush hour traffic in the areas I saw. Some roads were too narrow for even two lanes to pass by each way.

It felt like a different world.

And at the end of it all, with all the marvels and sights, I thought, "This is the kind of life I'm missing."

A few days later, though, I was back on a plane to return to a life that felt far from a dream.

"Trials of a Family Portrait" - It really happened, I swear

The sun made our eyes bleary and red that day. I remember my cousin's eyes watering from how bright the sun was in her face. And the kids—well, they just wanted to get back to the pool.

A family vacation is a massive undertaking—especially if you're like my family and there are over a dozen of you. Yeah, it was that kind of vacation.

The crowning moment was the family photograph outing on the beach, and none of us really felt in the mood for it—but we did it anyway.

Was the trip fun? Yes and no. Would I go back? Um, well, probably with a different group of people. Sorry, fam.

"The Three Cats I Found in Summer" - Little miracles indeed...

This is probably the sappiest sonnet of the bunch. Why? I love my cats so much. (I know. I'm a raging cat lady. Don't tell anyone.)

It's weird to say now, but I think each of them found me for a reason. I was meant to find them, I guess I should say. (Fate. It sounds nice, doesn't it?)

I lost the first of my brood last year. He was only thirteen, and I wish he could have had a longer life. I hope he was happy while he was here.

And—well, I'm glad I'm a person who draws these mysterious creatures to her. It makes me feel like they're my familiars, and I'm secretly a witch who just doesn't know how to use magic (yet). (Where's my Hogwarts letter again?)

On the serious side, I do love the cats I found in those three summers, and no one can take that away.

"Songs Filled the Night Air" - A concert in a different shade

My first outdoor concert went like this: we were sitting in the open lawn area in foldable chairs, and then all of a sudden it decided to rain.

Oh boy.

A soft mist appeared from the mixture of heat and moisture. It gave the entire area an eerie quality that persisted until the rain abated and the sun began to set.

And, all the while, I was thinking of the boy I refused to text one more message.

I wished he were there to bask in the music with me and take in the ethereal mood of the concert.

It's been seven years, and I still think of what that night could have been.

"I Fell for Him in Summer" - The first boy added to the list...

Summertime is my prime breeding ground for crushes.

That's just how it works, I guess, for me.

But I remember the first boy who really made an impression on me—even though he was never mine to have. He was older by a few years and seemed far too worldly for me. Yet I was smitten with him, it's true.

I just never said the words.

Do I regret it? Well, I wish things would have been different. But very few people end up together with the people they loved in the days of high school.

I just hope he's out there living his best life.

"The Ferris Wheel" - The end of summer means goodbye to you

And so we come to the end. The Ferris wheel is definitely my favorite kind of carnival ride. Slow, softly thrilling, providing a beautiful view.

Summer means many things to me, but here's this: we always arrive at an ending that will lead to a new beginning. The wonder of the seasons, right?

I hope you found something to ponder in one of the sonnets I wrote in the month of May. Don't forget to look at the Summer's Day challenge submissions for more entries on what summer means to all of us here on Vocal.

Happy writing, all, and enjoy this segue into summer 2021!