Sonnet War

I seem to be involved in a bit of a rhyme contest , writing sonnets
for the Evolving Ode blog. Well , if I'm gonna go to all the effort
of such a contest, I'm gonna at least plant them in my blog as well,
so everyone can suffer through my bad poetry. :)

The contest starts with the author of the blog asking to think up
line 12 of the sonnet , an a critic deriding my attempts to answer.



Actually , you're right. I suck. I was paying attention to the cadence, not the rhyme structure.

Too many japanese Haiku's going on in my head I guess. (they don't rhyme)

"xx. loves affection, for which it doth long"

There. That rhymes with the line ten's ending word of "on".

-----------------
My love, I see her as a budding rose
Full of shining light, she to me is warm
And when on her winter’s harsh winds blow
She feels no chill, for her there is no harm.

And if she chose to sleep a day away
‘Till sunset cascades brilliance in her bloom
I shouldn’t think the sun would smile today
Or lend her light upon her sister moon

To her true essence, no sonnet is just
For she shakes the ground I merely walk on
In my heart, no room for anyone but
*loves affection, for which it doth long

But, writing sonnets to her all the while
She must think of me no more than a child

* = the inserted line
--------------------

There. That conforms to the style of The Shakespearean Sonnet #73 which is typically used as an example of this style.



As for suggestions that I can't write my own original sonnets to save my life ...

--------------------
My love is my pen , an instrument fair
My life is my pain , as all artists say
my love is my art , a mistress of air
And so I must paint, it is just this way

I walk through my days , computers my trade
And seek out the fault, repair whats astray
I stride through my nights , my dreams not to fade
My pen doth lie quiet, quite put away

Computers you see, both master and slave
A task I can Hate, a servant to love
A boss I despise, but a canvas to save
Versitility, I hate as I wove

The electronic pen , sonnets anew
just another canvas , on which we hew

-----------------------