Anthony Di'anno

(North Yorkshire)

Sonnet#1 - Prelude to Freedom.


My loves, my wife our darling newborn child,
For us I wander through the open wood,
And forage in the shadowed forest wild.
To bring all a husband and father could,

To keep his kin well fed, secure and warm.
Scavenging towards freedom spirit strong,
Though oft broken backed, weary muscle torn,
I whistle carefree tunes the whole day long,

With wheelbarrow, flask and trusty bow saw.
I pull, I push, I heave I tote my haul,
So our lights may burn brightly ever more,
So that our flames need never be kept small.

So come cold Winter nights we all can share,
Contented peace warmed in crib and armchair.

Submitted: Thursday, June 27, 2013
Edited: Tuesday, May 20, 2014

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Poet's Notes about The Poem

It's about a man a woman and a fire.

Comments about this poem (Sonnet#1 - Prelude to Freedom. by Anthony Di'anno )

Enter the verification code :

  • Daniel Brick (5/28/2014 5:12:00 PM)

    You write in your notes - 'It's about a man a woman and a fire and I'll add a new-born baby. But this is it - society's irreducible heart - the nuclear family, fending for itself, making way for the next generation, building a moral world of effort, devotion, service, contentment and all of this creates the FREEDOM of the title. It looks so inevitable when expressed in verse. If we could focus our energies on this core value of family, with the intensity the poem conveys, we would no longer need political parties, reform plans, department store chains, Dr. Phil and his ilk, and a host of other things that clutter our lives, indeed take over our lives. Instead be a free man serving his family and happily singing his song! (Report) Reply

  • Daniel Brick (4/16/2014 5:24:00 PM)

    This sonnet contains the whole of life as one generation raises the next, readies it for the world and launches it. In the meantime, all the hard work, and the exhausting days dropping into exhausted nights don't matter. This is the essence of things, raising our children, then relaxing into retirement. Well, part of the time we get to relax... when we're not babysitting the grandchildren, helping the son and his wife paint their new house, driving our aged parents to their medical appointments, Hey, this is going to take more than a 14-line sonnet! (Report) Reply

  • Joseph Anderson (7/10/2013 9:52:00 AM)

    Anthony-you are great with the sonnet form and should post more.. This gave me a natural high,
    being of farming descent. I would rate this high (Report) Reply

  • Danny Draper (6/28/2013 9:25:00 AM)

    A fine sonnet of hearth and home secure from toil comfort and security a reward for hard and industrious labour. Homey and blissful. (Report) Reply

  • Paul Brookes (6/27/2013 11:09:00 AM)

    an unusual topic for a sonnet but you managed to carry it off with skill. A lovely sonnet I shall put this in my favourites list I keep reading it and get different things from it each time I read it 10/10 BB =: OD (Report) Reply

Read all 6 comments »

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. Stay not away, gajanan mishra
  2. Ah! Little Woodlouse - Are You Unreal?, Brian P FitzGerald
  3. You Will Always Learn, Naveed Akram
  4. What can I do, gajanan mishra
  5. Salvation, Uttam Biswas
  6. Morning Prayer, Brian P FitzGerald
  7. Ghost And..., John Ugolo Umah
  8. Mendel Anxiety, RISHAD MKPNR
  9. Beauty Falls..., John Ugolo Umah
  10. Flooded street, gajanan mishra

Poem of the Day

poet Edmund Spenser

Of this worlds theatre in which we stay,
My love like the spectator ydly sits
Beholding me that all the pageants play,
Disguysing diversly my troubled wits.
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]