GloPoWriMo #9

Easter morning bubbles gently in the sky,
sun yolk swaddled in a muslin chalazae.
Cheeks billowy as clouds, the newborn cries,
ripe from his mother’s fresh bouquet.

The yellowest tinge of hair upon chin;
The weight of something new upon my chest.
His almond eyes and tulip-petal skin.
The waves that come in heightening crests.

Resurrection of joy, each oval wet;
I haven’t gotten over the bliss yet.

©2023 | K. Hartless

GloPoWriMo #9

Today, we’d like to challenge you to write your own sonnet. Incorporate tradition as much or as little as you like – while keeping in general to the theme of “love.” A tall order, a sonnet on Easter Sunday. A happy verse, so anyways, here is my muse.


  1. Thanks, John. I learn things from writing them. It was difficult, this love sonnet to my son. But, for a one day job, I’m happy with it. 🙂 Happy Easter, John.


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