Tuesday, March 29, 2016


                    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.