Some have argued that no one writes a sonnet
perfect in metrics, rhythm and in rhyme,
but these first three lines have duely outdone it.
Here’s thus, a fruitful quatrain in no time.
And with ten more hard lines to go, I worry
about the fourty-five iambs not yet slain.
Yet I proceed to the next territory
and I make up a second sound quatrain.
So far so good, I scribble my ninth line.
My worries fairly and wearily shorten,
as I bounce on the final quatrain’s seat.
This leaves me two more lines to quarantine.
Now check my syllables– each line’s five feet,
count lines how you’ll, I warrant there’s fourteen.
Do this more often. Thanks!
The muse, AY. The muse.
It’s very clever. On the last line did you mean if or how?
I meant ‘how’. Like ‘count the lines however you will..’
Thanks for dropping by, Afam.
It’s not hard at all…, we will ship you to one town in England where you can be talk iamb and lamb together in a sentence.
Haba! you wan outdo Shakespeare… 🙂
Nice.
LOL @ iamb and lamb. LOL! Thanks bro.
yes ke… all thee poets… hian!
Kudos.
I’ve written sonnets but damn this got me wooowing!! Nice concept! Nice job! Overkilled
Thanks, Phonic. Phoenix? 😀
Nice one. I am impressed. However, dont you think Fourty is spelt “forty”? 🙂