Mother’s baby (A Miltonian Caudate Sonnet)

Already on the first day after birth
he made a statement heard all over town:
a noise which made his worried parents frown.
A little screamer causing lots of mirth
he was, so loud his cry, not of this earth.
He grew up fast, and soon the son looked down
on dad and mum, whilst making too much sound.
He grew a giant with enormous girth.

No chair could hold the lad when he was four,
they had to move away because of this
and built a new place for their giant son.
There came a time he had do leave the door,
their lovely boy who they would dearly miss
had reached a tree like size. So he was gone.

Goliath went, moved on
and fought his way, became a household name,
a hero, who forgot from where he came.
Once slain, no more the same,
his mother found him and she brought him back,
her little baby, with the ten ton neck.

🙂 I hope this is a real Miltonian Caudate Sonnet!

Just another morning

The window open while you make coffee,
I smell the flowers. This is the season
they grow everywhere.
Syringas, you whispered earlier, pansies,
hyacinths, lilies of the valley.
(Hyacinths? Do we still have them?)

They have names, surely,
but I don’t care to call them anything
as they all are: this morning,
a blend of sweet and friendly.
I imagine a rose, that would be nice,
with the coffee cup you bring.

When I put my glasses on, however,
I see it is not coffee and no rose
but a new dustpan. Hint, you smile.
It’s time to rise. Almost noon.
I close the window to lock
the memory and the scents away.

The day has begun
hours before me,
already weary and troubled
but I’ll catch up soon.