NaPoWriMo: #29 the yearly sonnet attempt

Shakespeare’s birthday and Martin and my anniversary of our first kiss----poetic, eh? I think so! Here is my yearly attempt at a sonnet. I confess to have a huge headache right now and I am only giving myself 30 minutes to rough one out, but hopefully it will work out.

And I have always liked some of Shakespeare’s lesser known sonnets one is posted below that everyone skips over. I think because it contains a word that looks like a racial slur, but it isn’t. It is a word that dates back to Middle English meaning miserly.

I just finished at the 30 mark and I like it, but I don’t think it exactly scans. Oh well, it just proves I’m not Shakespeare!

 

Song of Sweetest Smells

Thy lips they fell upon a rose

To taste the bloom and not the thorn

Rose high your song in lover’s silver mist

Your heart blew hard on my bright ember

The tune traced our friendship twain

A kindship brought from deepest pain

Met in joys we could reclaim

Out of the fog of uncertain loom

Weaving thoughts that began our bloom

Where we could dispel our creed

Your kiss from love’s hunger Godspeed

Sonnet 1

FROM fairest creatures we desire increase,
That thereby beauty's rose might never die,
But as the riper should by time decease,
His tender heir might bear his memory:
But thou, contracted to thine own bright eyes,
Feed'st thy light'st flame with self-substantial fuel,
Making a famine where abundance lies,
Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel.
Thou that art now the world's fresh ornament
And only herald to the gaudy spring,
Within thine own bud buriest thy content
And, tender churl, makest waste in niggarding.
Pity the world, or else this glutton be,
To eat the world's due, by the grave and thee.

---William Shakespeare 1609