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Throne of Roses
by Jody PrattA throne of roses smells pleasant but pains
beneath the king who sits and strains his pride.
A lesser man might move aside but reigns
beneath the king who gains by pricks in thighs.
Crushes men that think to rise against him
declaring prosecution on them all.
Casualties won by calls at his whim;
death his reward as he watches them fall.
Every person told to adore his grace,
filled each time with distaste, they listen well.
Each tongue like a thigh that swells, they save face
for if they mock, be maced and under dwell.
Grab a sword to turn the tide of his war;
growls his words like a dog, a king no more. 12/28/2011 Author's Note: My first ever attempt at a sonnet. I added some additional restrictions for myself, such as internal rhyme of the line prior and matching the first letter of each line with the end rhyme pattern (abab, cdcd, efef, gg). This was quite the challenge moving away from my usual free verse.
Posted on 12/28/2011
Copyright © 2024 Jody Pratt
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Joe Cramer on 12/28/11 at 08:36 PM ... simply brilliant.... an outstanding sonnet!!! |
| Posted by Dorian Black on 12/28/11 at 09:35 PM A brilliant sonnet -especially for your first attempt! Great imagery and flow. - Dorian |
| Posted by Lori Blair on 12/28/11 at 10:41 PM Reminds me much of today's pride as well..I am not sure what "that's said" should be believed? I just know, today, I believe in your heart..thank you! loved how you did this.. |
| Posted by Kristine Briese on 12/29/11 at 04:58 PM Wonderful imagery, and a great story. Love the form. |
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