The reason that I choose the sonnet’s form
With all its stringent boundaries and demands
Is that the challenge makes ideas swarm,
Sending my mind to unexpected lands,
And such adventures are a joy to take
Each leading to a fresh discovery
That without challenge I might never make,
Yielding an artifact for all to see.
And while free verse may have grand things to say,
A sonnet is composed as well to sing,
Calling for a melodic kind of play
As only such a skipping verse can bring.
In fourteen lines of five iambic beats
Great masters have achieved immortal feats.