November 2011’s theme was Shakespeare, but I didn’t get around to writing my own sonnet until the end of the month. In the contest (tomorrow is the last day to submit, by the way) you may write a Shakespearean sonnet. I tried to do this but I had a difficult time with finding words to rhyme, but that retain the meaning I had intended for the poem. The result was blank verse. Now, I would like to share one with you. It’s about when I was in middle school, and our gym class walked down the street to the ice rink. Doesn’t sound like sonnet material, but I think it works.
But first, for those of you who are interested in poetry, I have to recommend to you a wonderful book on the craft. The Ode Less Travelled by Stephen Fry is a fantastic guide for meter, rhyme, form, and diction for the poet who is tired of reading poetry craft books that read like manuals or school textbooks. I highly recommend it! Humorous, insightful, and delightful.
He took my hand and led me cross the way
Over the fields and down the hill to ice.
We latched our skates and huddled in our coats,
Our noses pink and touched by frozen air.
We slided, glided, slid, and slipped about,
Forgetting time and struggles with our books.
The classroom seemed ten miles down the road,
And soon a slippery hour had passed us by.
We trudged back through the snow and into warmth,
Our pink ears numb and fingers clad in wool.
We drew the dreaded pencils from our bags
And sat ourselves behind our desks to thaw.
We skated through the days and then the weeks,
Free figure eights trapped yearning in our boots.