Thursday, 3 October 2013

Is Not Shakespearean

Written for National Poetry Day*

I thought I’d read you all a famous sonnet,
By Shakespeare, Byron, Keats or some such chap.
You’d marvel at its form and think upon it,
And at the end you’d pause and then you’d clap.
And later, maybe in an English lesson,
You’d sit and try and write one just for fun.
Although you’d struggle with it, you would press on;
You wouldn’t stop until the thing was done.
But if I read some hi-falutin’ verse,
You’d sit and look all bored and lost and blank.
You wouldn’t write one later, and what’s worse,
You’d no doubt think that sonnets really stank.
So here’s a sonnet you can understand,
With simple words and written by this hand. 


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