NOW Cupid, once, he made a fool of me,
He struck me with his wayward, golden dart;
And all at once I felt sweet agony,
Just like a glowing ember in my heart.

I heard a voice; then something caught my eye;
An orange butterfly came into view;
And then again that voice, this time, said ‘Hi’;
I slowly raised my eyes and there stood you.

Smiling you asked, ‘May I have a light?’
And suddenly my heart was all aflame;
I’m sure I fell in love at that first sight,
A random victim of the love-god’s aim.

You took a light then left, I felt confused,
And on my puzzled heart I sat and mused.

Now here’s my bloody sonnet for today,
A trifle for my daily exercise;
It’s best I try to keep it light and gay,
Tho’ truly I am full of heavy sighs.

My muse has been holding himself aloof,
Yet condescends to text my mobile phone;
He says he thinks poetry’s for poufs!
When will he give this dog a friggin’ bone?

These rude, unpolished rhymes are from the heart:
If I should catch that mischief-making God,
I’ll wring his scrawny neck and break his dart,
And fling his poxy carcass ‘neath the sod.

So what if poetry is somewhat queer,
We all know Shakespeare was a sonneteer.



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