Tag Archives: Sonnet

Roach Sonnet

 

This stemmed from a conversation me and my friends had in a group text.

I am blessed to have the most interesting and creative friends, and our conversations are always something else.

Cowdog Creatives (Hannah) took this picture and sent it to our text group, saying how dramatically it died in the last ray of sunlight.

 

 

Another friend said it looked like an Italian opera singer, declaring in song his long-unspoken love to the fair Limoncello with his final breath.

I can’t write opera, but I can write melodramatic sonnets, so I had to join in poking fun at this roach’s dramatic death.

It’s OK to cry.

 


 

Fair Lemoncello, golden wings and thighs

No weeping from those scintillating eyes.

I am content that you have heard me speak;

No grief should mar the shine upon that cheek.

 

What warmth is this that causes my love worry?

A ray of sunlight, yet I cannot scurry.

It lays bare all my tender love for thee.

There is no fear where Lemoncello be.

 

There’s nothing more to say. My soul is clear.

I cannot stay, my insect queen, to hear

Thy chirped response; angelic though you be

A darker angel draws now near to me.

 

I do not mind death’s amply lit approach.

Today this nymph developed into roach.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

Violet Sonnet

I am bad at rhyming! I know it’s in me because when I was a kid I loved writing rhyming poems (really corny stuff, if I can dig them up I’ll show you guys some time).

So I’ve been practicing my rhyming. This is kind of clunky but good enough to post, at least.

 


 

 

Sweet violet, known for shrinking mein,

Please do not fear, for I am plain

A traveler who on passing through

Was stricken by your vibrant hue.

 

Dear violet, turning with the wind,

I beg you not my pleas rescind

I only wish you would bestow

Upon my eyes your purest glow.

 

You blush! Sweet, I will not attack

Your modest beauty sacrosanct.

I find it charming you should be

The height of quiet propriety.

 

A little favor now, for me

Although I act familiarly

Allow me kneel and your stem bent

The better to partake your scent.

 

O violet dear, I wish to see

You closer, you wouldst not fight me

My fingers pull your waist lightly

Alack! My touch has plucked you free.

 

She was too delicate! Oh well.

Another one for my lapel.

 

 


 

You know how the old poets always had beautiful, introspective conversations with flowers and things like that. So I tried it myself. Turns out, after all my best and noblest efforts, I’m just a rapist, lol.