Don’t say that sonnet you’re about to read,
But sell it to us, as an actor would;
Make every word of it not word but deed,
An action in our ears well understood.
Project each syllable across the room;
Articulate the vowels and consonants;
If it’s a sad one, then convey the gloom,
Or if it’s happy, make your sonnet dance.
Your pitch must rise and fall as passion sways,
For nothing’s duller than a monotone,
But yet avoid inordinate displays
Of histrionic art that raise a groan.
A sonnet is a little song to sing,
So open up your heart and let it ring.
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