When I doubt happiness

First  task of the morning, write a sonnet for the OctPoWriMo prompt.

 

I look out onto misted dripping trees,

And hear the fading voice of autumn sing,

Among the browning leaves piled by the breeze;

Is this the dream I hoped that time would bring?

These sodden fields where only pheasants call,

Their hoarse bird voices plaintive and forlorn,

Was this the dream, this bleak and foggy fall,

When gunshots break the peace of every dawn?

Dreams are formed from some deep-seated need,

A future shaped, a light that beckons on

To follow, though our lives change from that seed

Of first green youth, but now that youth is done,

I marvel still at beauty, every sound

Of nature, for here true heart’s ease is found.

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

13 thoughts on “When I doubt happiness”

    1. I think it all depends what you’re looking for. If the aims in life are purely material, comfort, cars, holidays, you know you can buy them all, just have to earn enough money. If your dreams are more nebulous, it’s harder to grasp them. Nothing is ever perfect, there is always a sense that things could be better. They don’t talk about the sty of contentment for nothing 🙂

    1. I usually find sonnets really hard, so I was pleased with how this turned out.
      I think so too, about how we change. Sometimes though, we’re just going back to what we would have done if life hadn’t got in the way.

    1. It sounds terrible, but I would rather they killed the pheasants if it meant they’d leave the wild wild things alone. The pheasants are bred to be slaughtered. They let them loose then shoot away until they’ve killed most of them. Some escape altogether, but they rarely live long in the wild. Until the end of February they have the right to butcher pretty much everything that moves. It sickens me.

      1. I remember, as a child, my dad took my brother and I out with a bb gun. Up to then I had only practiced on random inert targets. I saw a bird and chose to shoot it. I’ll never forget watching it fall and never did it again. I think about grown adults, making a hobby of killing BIRDS, and my heart gets very sad 😦

    1. It’s a bit like the Japanese forms. The pattern of ideas and the way they’re expressed has to be followed, as well as the rhyme and rhythm. I really have to be in the mood to tackle any of them.

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