This piece was written for this week’s Terrible Poetry challenge, a love sonnet, and was joint winner.
Be still, my swell-ed heart, by Shake’s peer (aka Doug Jacquier)
I did but see her glassy-eyed, astride
her pied ride as she wended to her home,
sighing in her saddle set to the side,
clutching her cask of wine to her bos-ome.
Full sore my lovesick heart (and other parts) swell’d
as Cupid’s arrow shrived my mortal soul
and I resolved to plight my troth once held
by the Fair Youth at my watering hole.
Dark Lady, I fulsome cried, be my bride
and let us to Lethe flee and there be wed.
She fix-ed me full-faced but gimlet-eyed
and intoned words that ‘minded of the dead.
“Marry, not marry, for I’m wed to Sid
but as to your other needs, whatsay twenty quid?”
You’re really maintaining your standards. Well done.
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I appreciate the irony 😉
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Poor old saddled Sid.
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I prefer the writings of Chat Qu’éspire myself.
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Send me the link for inspiration. 🙂
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I tried, but I could find nothing appropriate; a lot of what I found was quite grotesque (I think the worst was the thoroughly sickening tale of a taxidermist who makes drones out of dead creatures).
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As you do. 😉
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