Sonnet 0.2

OK, I've been lax and a slacker. Let me add some more to this...

The love that I had, the love that I lost,
The love that is customary, the love that is right.
Love is constant, so the Bard said, yet is it irreplaceable?
Without true love, do we die? Or is love far greater, than person, place or thing?
What if love is vast and dynamic, sometimes fleeting, sometimes long and comfortable,
Simple as vivid green in the brilliant sun, curious as Riemann zeta,
Poignant and soothing as a morning dove, foreboding as a supernova.

Pedaling faster, heart a-pounding, forest carving sweat,
A moment of tranquility, my eyes locked with a deer's, time stopped.
Transcendental instant, forward motion, but no movement,
Soundless, thoughtless, drifting through the forest, I still stared,
Total peace and a glimpse of communion,
Before the sound returns,
And the mud flies.

Sonnet 0.1

For some crazy reason, really because of a very together, uber-living friend, I am trying my hand at writing a sonnet. I am going to begin rather unstructured and stream of conscious and hopefully over time start to hone and polish it.

The topic is love, that so many sonnets before have sung about, so without further adieu:

The love that I had, the love that I lost,
The love that is customary, the love that is right.
Love is constant, so the Bard said, yet is it irreplaceable?
Without true love, do we die? Or is love far greater, than person, place or thing?
What if love is vast and dynamic, sometimes fleeting, sometimes long and comfortable,
Simple as vivid green in the brilliant sun, curious as Riemann zeta,
Poignant and soothing as a morning dove, foreboding as a supernova.

OK, that's half or rather half a start!