"The Time and Truth We Need," an American sonnet

The Time and Truth We Need

An American Sonnet

Forgiving, patient Time, in time, will solve

all passing pregnant problems and delays.

True love's mag-ni-fi-cent-ly stern resolve

preserves for us its rights, its nights, its days,

because the awesome arm of Providence

protects us in its Holy Residence

and will not let us falter in our stride

until we work together side by side

performing special tasks reserved for us

that only you and I can lucidly discuss.

This newfound prayer of faith we now may pray

and meditate on each and every day,

that in our friendship we . . . may live in harmony

and truth to find our free . . . and sacred destiny.

Monday, September 30, 2013


Copyright (c) 2013 by The Max Havlick School, a nonprofit project of New World Community Enterprises, Inc., 16 W. Vermont St., Villa Park, IL 60181-1938, all rights reserved.

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Mhatter99 profile image

Mhatter99 3 years ago from San Francisco

excuse my simplicity. I was taken away by your rhyme scheme. thank you. I have not gone far enough. lead on

Max Havlick profile image

Max Havlick 3 years ago from Villa Park, Illinois Author



Thanks for responding, San Francisco, but

simplicity is harder to achieve

than wordiness, and thus today it needs

some champions more than it needs regrets.

Sometimes I get into a frame of mind

where I feel driven (by what challenges

inside or out of me, I do not know)

in everything I think, or say, or write,

to frame it in the rhyme and rhythm that

seems best to work for that idea or

emotion or expression in particular.

The fact that you . . . among discerning few

habituate . . . my site might indicate

that I need more excuses than do you.

In any case, I'm humbled that you read,

and much I hope it serves to meet your need.

For you and your important life I pray

new comfort and rich blessings on this day.

Max in Villa Park, Illinois, early Tuesday morning, Oct. 1, 2013

ocfireflies profile image

ocfireflies 3 years ago from North Carolina

A sacred destiny so filled with aspirations

Seems so beautiful with subtle glorifications

For who else exists when love inspires

The man who writes his poetic fires

But a secret muse who’s always there

For whom this poem seems to be made

In a world so need of love desperately reposed

To share or not share there is no shame

When a sacred love is so rare and true

If she is the one whose heart you claim

It matters not who knows her name

To love her is to write for the entire world to see

To have such a muse in the grander scheme

Is to have the locket and she the key

jhamann profile image

jhamann 3 years ago from Reno NV

I love how you decided to work in the abab then finish in couplets. I have found that sonnets are actually quite versatile within the fourteen lines. And different patterns can arise in the before/after or problem/solution or however you deal with this sonnet construct in your sonnet. Robert Lowell in his "Histories" sonnet series, not one rhymes and it is hard to find a perfect iambic pentameter line yet he uses the fourteen lines like a pro. Oh, also I have found that when you study the uses of the quatrains and sestets in different variaties of sonnets you can accomplish so many different types of voice. Jamie

Max Havlick profile image

Max Havlick 3 years ago from Villa Park, Illinois Author



Well, now, I thank thee, OH see FIE -or -FLIES, but "Hey!

Who is the son-ne-teer around here anyway?!!"

If everyone starts writing sonnets every day,

a Renaissance of sorts will soon be under way

that soon will shadow anything I have to say,

which is, of course, the point of all I have to say.

But don't forget what Petrarch's tampering with

his literary culture led us to,

not only Le-o-nar-do, but . . . to Ga-li-le-o too,

and straight to English lan-guage co-py-ing by Chau-cer,

and Spen-ser, leading straight . . . to Mister Shake-speare,

and Ba-con's essays leading straight . . . to I-saac New-ton.

For poets ren-o-vate the world in ways no one can know

until rampaging, raging, paging ages come and go.

Max from Villa Park, Illinois, Tuesday afternoon, October 1, 2013, with new affection for responsive ocfireflies, Martin, and Jamie, and, indeed, for all who read and respond to my work. Thank you.


When airy mountain Muses become poets, world beware,

for healing, new and wonderful, can fly through mountain air,

and cogent two-way con-ver-sa-tions are so strangely rare

they could lead to a newer, better world beyond compare.

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