I don’t know what most of you do at 11 pm before bed, but I typically do my best thinking around then. This week I challenged myself to create a sonnet, the bane of my poetic ability, because I thought it might be fun. Quickly realising I had nothing to write about, I defaulted to the (very modest) idea of me writing a sonnet itself.
A Shakespearean Airing of Grievances, A Sonnet
The glory satisfaction bears when thine
uncanny gift for rhyme returns post-haste.
The keys to awe lie deep ‘neath words of mine,
yearning for thoughts that rhymes had laid to waste.
The failed rhyme scheme to d’stroy my genius mind,
while fearing passive voice and reformatted words.
The key words hide in places I cannot find.
I start to think that Bill’s forms be for birds.
But three quatrains perhaps are not so bad.
The keys inspire a shift in my writing.
Escape of right words might just make me mad,
to find the perfect words I keep fighting.
I’ve now just remembered metaphors aren’t
my forte, now this sonnet I depart.
Thanks to The Daily Post for their writing prompt, bedtime!
What’s your favourite poetry form? Do you prefer structure, or do you fancy yourself a free-writer? I’d love to hear your answer in the comments! Cheers! -MC