The wind is doing its best to pull this house down around my ears, but I'm not too worried. I got to sleep in today; I drank a delicious mug of tea; and I have a phone date tonight with a certain someone who makes me smile a lot. All is well in the world. I'm also being extraordinarily lazy, so I think I'm just going to post something of my own again.
I thought I'd do a little throwback to senior year Shakespeare class. We were all assigned the project of writing a Shakespearean sonnet. Well, I grumbled and moaned and procrastinated and complained and finally wrote something that I thought was semi-passable. I'm having difficulties with the third stanza (i.e. it's awful), but in the 5 years since I've written it, I still can't think of anything else. I think this pretty much sums up why I am not a published poet!
When I alone in winsome winter sit
My thoughts awry within my captured brain
Myself versus myself again is pit
And triumph over me I'll never gain
Against the cages of my head I fight
A butterfly who struggles to the death
When will I ever let my soul ignite
What sorrow lies there clinging to each breath
Oh would that life were of a different tune
Without the pain that causes me to fall
Without facing my ever ill fortune
But in my mind there stirs the slightest call
A voice that whispers sweetly in my ear
"You'll never be alone while I am here"
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment