| What critics have to say about The
Nature Sonnets |
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| “The Nature Sonnets are not thoughts
and images and entertainments thrown to the winds
in heedless free verse. They were harboured in
the mind until rhythm and rhyme gave them form.
Now they gladden our own mind and our ear as well,
in the ancient tradition of poetry; they also gladden
our eye. To paraphrase what Ugolino says in Dante: If
you don’t admire these poems, what do you
admire?” |
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| William Whallon, author of A Book of Time |
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| “In these winsome, well-crafted sonnets,
Jill Williams has fun with the form — even
creating her own ingenious variation — yet
remains sturdily true to the ancient music of the
sonnet tradition. She takes nature seriously, yet
has enough sense of irony to be witty, even cheeky,
with it in a way both Emily Dickinson and Dorothy
Parker might appreciate. Those who love formal
poetry will find The Nature Sonnets refreshing
and pleasing.” |
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| Miles David Moore, The Bears of Paris and Buddha
Isn’t Laughing |
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| “I heard Jill Williams read several years
ago at a gathering in Carmel, California. As she
stood in the outdoor sunlight with her long, flowing
red hair, I got tingles up my spine. Some of her
sonnets were so poignant. But just as quickly,
she’d read something quirky and I’d
laugh out loud. I never knew poetry could be that
much fun!” |
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| Sabrina O'Jack |
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Here are three sample pages:
Love’s Great Ebb And
Flow
The dimpled waters mock my love for you,
As do the sand birds hopping down the beach.
For they know, sure as sunlight melts the dew,
That nothing stays forever within reach.
Not crocus buds, nor autumn's golden tone.
Nor winter's chilling winds that still benumb.
Life's only constant lies in change alone.
It's all we may expect of things to come.
There's little safety in a long embrace.
For all too soon those tender feelings fade.
And what we took to be our rightful place
Is somewhere at the back of the parade.
Yet as I dip my fingers in the sea,
I know I'll love you still. In memory.
Copyright © 2001
Jill Williams
Reprinted by permission of Gival Press, LLC.
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Summer In The Tropics
It's brutal when the sunshine never stops
and flowers bloom relentlessly each day.
Monotony's much worse than racist cops
or converts always pushing you to pray.
And summer all the time? Forget it, mac.
I'll take four seasons over one, okay?
The feel of raking leaves into a sack.
The sound that kindling makes, that subtle
hiss.
The buds on trees when spring comes ambling
back.
I wouldn't trade a tan for all of this.
Not even if I had a million bucks.
The world is full of pretty mouths to kiss!
I say too much of any one thing sucks.
In life (and lakes) you need both swans and
ducks.
Copyright © 2001
Jill Williams
Reprinted by permission of Gival Press, LLC.
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Monkey By A Restaurant In
Mexico
What do you see out there, my restless one?
Those cold eyes fixed on land you'll never
reach.
Best seize your solace stretching in the sun
For no one here will help you when you screech.
Or grunt. Or scratch. Or hungrily beseech.
The waiters have their customers to serve
And snorkel masks to vend along the beach.
You say the neck rope pinches? What a nerve!
Be still and suck away on this hors d’oeuvre.
Who cares about your jungle mom and dad.
Or how your spider tail has lost its curve.
This captive life is not so bloody bad.
Except when strangers gape and mock your plight.
... And stand too far away for you to bite.
Copyright © 2001
Jill Williams
Reprinted by permission of Gival Press, LLC.
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