Written April, 2003 in response to a challenge on the P(ennsic)Bardic mailing list. “You said that you’d be here an hour ago!” Of course, it was a doorway lighted brightĪnd pierced the fabric of the blackest nightĪ figure breaks the doorway’s lighted frame,Īs I approached, I heard her thus exclaim: In that it’s not the sort of thing at all This is a Spenserian sonnet, rhymed abab bcbc cdcd ee.Įnglish Sonnet with Pepperoni and Extra CheeseĪ door shone in the darkness odd, it’s true, Everyone agreed that if the old adage were true, “Women don’t sweat, they glow…” our camp would have been visible from Neptune. Written in August, 2002, after a particularly warm Pennsic. One answered me, “The weather is the cause.Īnd we’ve been told we aren’t allowed to sweat!” The wherefore of this marvel must be known!” “My ladies!” I exclaimed, “This gives me pause! The wonder of this sight made me to moan, That turned the midnight darkness near to day!Īnd found that there no flame, no lantern shone The moon was high, the night was close and still Here are a few examples of the form which are metaphorically wearing funny hats, or at least a rakish wink. You can make something wonderful, or you can make someone sneeze. Many people are scared off from writing sonnets, because they associate them with Shakespeare and other poetic giants, but it’s just a tool, like a jar of pepper or a bolt of linen.
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