If not to live enamoured by life then why?

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It’s the colour that beguiles beyond a reasonable doubt
lends ardor to the curve of eloquent lips
eliciting hue from lofty trees and sun’s eclipse.
It whispers and smiles when we blush about 
when heart has unraveled all her secrets out.
Red, as nectar from pomegranate benignly drips
would that we win war of senses and come to grips
it’s the colour of memory, one which we can’t live without.

Red, as autumn arrives with amourous leaves
when the world’s enveloped in dreamless sleep
it’s the colour of want in the hour of solace.
Though glorious this shade often sin interweaves 
hush, let us beg Lord for kindness in our souls to keep
Red, come take my flaws and leave me flawless. 

 

Photo credits: Pinterest

Form: Italian Sonnet

Posted for Weekend Mini-Challenge @ Real Toads 

And Posted on the poetry pantry @ poets united

70 thoughts on “If not to live enamoured by life then why?

  1. HA says:

    Ooh, red is the most glorious of colors, and it is just the perfect shade of mood and tone in your words. There are so many delectable phrases — “nectar from pomegranate benignly drips…”, “amorous leaves”, “color of want in the hour of solace”, et al.
    One is left with the sights and emotions of red — such an evocative verse, penned down beautifully.

  2. Bjorn Rudberg says:

    I like how you started this from the most personal and intimate and then used the red of the world… the way you captured the emotions, and avoided the blood and the rage made red seem intimate to me.

  3. Toni Spencer says:

    Red. One of my mother’s most favorite colors – all of the reds. I like these phrases quite a bit: Red, as autumn arrives with amourous leaves” and red as “it’s the colour of memory” That is the most beautiful line.

  4. Pat says:

    As Bjorn noted, it’s wonderful and refreshing that you stayed mostly clear of the “rage, violent” aspects of red – although I detect a slight hint or trace of this in the last two lines of the first stanza – but in them, you’ve asked or suggested, that it can be tamed if we come to our senses … so yes, hail to red – and how you’ve walked us through the differences, from the lips, from the heart, to how it tastes, and then slips into our dreams too …

    lovely versing Sanaa 🙂

  5. Peter says:

    Lot’s to like here – I smiled at “…nectar from pomegranate benignly drips / would that we win war of senses and come to grips” – and the pun in “as autumn arrives with amourous leaves” – very nice write.

  6. Kim M. Russell says:

    The problem with responding to poems late is that everyone says what I wanted to say!
    Your sonnet is vivid with passionate, beguiling red, Sanaa, that pulsates throughout the lines.. I love the way it moves between human emotions and nature’s glory, like a dance, in the lines:
    ‘lends ardor to the curve of eloquent lips
    eliciting hue from lofty trees and sun’s eclipse’
    and .
    ‘Red, as nectar from pomegranate benignly drips
    would that we win war of senses and come to grips’.
    I also love the way autumn red has crept into your sonnet with its ‘amourous leaves’ and I agree with Bjorn about avoiding blood, anger and rage.

  7. Mary says:

    There definitely is something about red. I loved the idea that it takes one’s flaws and leaves one flawless. Red definitely is a color with personality!

  8. ZQ says:

    I always seem to envision you as a beautiful fairy dropping glittering thoughts here and there having me agree to your statement…”IF NOT TO LIVE ENAMOURED BY LIFE THEN WHY?”
    ZQ

  9. Rosemary Nissen-Wade says:

    You had me at the title. Of all rhetorical questions to pose, that is surely the one! Then the luscious poem that follows illustrates it so richly. Finally I discern what a beautifully-rhymed and well-constructed sonnet this is.

  10. Wendy Bourke says:

    Wonderful! Red is as much a color, as an emotion … or a state of mind, perhaps. My favorite line: ‘Though glorious this shade often sin interweaves . ‘ makes that point, brilliantly.

  11. Sara McNulty says:

    “Takes ones flaws and leaves one flawless”.
    “It’s the color of memory , one which we can’t live without”

    Two of many outstanding lines in this lovely rouge-red sonnet. Gorgeous!

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