The Picture of His Face

[billy]

it doesn't read as a sonnet as of yet, here's a good link that shows the mechanics of the thing. (in reply to a post to bena you made)
i think the title is great. the poem less so.


Sweet sleep, i beg, to rest serene,
but sudden storms invade my dream,
and tempests rage in vivid scenes.
would be a better meter than the one you have at present. all i did was use the soft stress to start the next line which gives you iambic octometer almost. the sweet line could be:
oh sweet sleep, i would rest serene[ i think there are enough iambs to count as an iambic line]
you could also work each line out to 5 meter feet which would need another soft hard and stressed syllable.
the first verse reminds me of Shelley's Frankenstein and on the whole i think you have some good lines of poetry at play.

a note of caution though. try not to end lines with and or but, or word that carries you out of the meter.

The Picture of His Face

Sweet sleep, i beg, to rest serene, but
sudden storms invade my dream, and
tempests rage in vivid scenes.
And though dear Lord you follow me, and [move the [and] down]
for my sake do part the sea;
his naked face will always be,
the cunning ghost who's haunting me.

Weary eyes although they laugh,
they say they've cried much in he past.
Of course, the smile, a poet's wile;
which sings sweet music with purposed guile.
The heartfelt love, the selfish cad;
mischief was the younger lad.
That knowing grin has seen and touched:
A life on stage now sets his teeth in paper cups.

I feel the face, it's etched in me.
With fingers soft and lovingly;
caressing haunted history, and
treasuring the memory,
of all his face engulfs in me.

And then I wake, the world is bland,
I find therein, my empty hands.