With its ten gangly legs, and five long feet,
it hobbles the cobbles – a diddle-dee-dum:
pedals the rhythm of a Roman street;
travels to Britain – a fiddling strum;
espouses rules but allows them broken;
copes with rejection and hopes of the heart;
in moments of need it’s quite outspoken;
a smitten attachment to Cupid’s dart.
Many a muse has become its focus:
blushed at the poet’s devotional praise:
In love sings the rose; in Spring sings the crocus.
In time comes a couplet, as sentence or phrase.
. Lovers of the word think more upon it,
. through chapter and verse … none beats the sonnet.
© Tim Grace, 11 July 2012
To the reader: A routine day needs a dose of character; an element of surprise; a sprinkling of unexpected pleasure and discovery. Zeus, in union with Mnemosyne, fathered nine amusements. With breadth and reach his daughters (the Muses) tantalised his curiosities. As sources of inspiration, their “hearts are set upon song and their spirit free from care”. Through the Muses we discover the beauty of art, the wisdom of science and the splendour of life.
To the poet: Once in a while a poet needs to take stock. Sonnets (under bonnets) need a service; a check of mechanical and electrical systems; to synchronise pistons and calibrate sparks. In the process, it doesn’t hurt to check that lubricants are clean and viscous; mediating flow and modifying friction. Fuel lines and coolants need attention to ensure isolated function. With tolerance, the system allows for wonderful variation… the sonneteer’s journey continues.