THE LAST "LAMENT" - TO A "SONNET" . . .

Head bowed - I hang my cap - I stand in my shame . . .

For want of trying too clever in my own poetic aim . . .

The “Sonnet” was just too clever for me in its rules . . .

With it I have lost to the Supersonic “Sonnet” duel . . .

But worry for me not - nothing in the end was lost . . .

“Couplet” Queen I am - I’ve now found to my cost . . .

I will leave the “Sonnet” - to those who know best . . .

Fool me would ever throw myself again to the test . . . 

I written such - but I never knew of my own game . . .

I know now “Couplets” poetry - has its own name . . .

One does not have to sophisticate between the lines . . .

As long as one knows how to make it all into rhymes . . .  

Within two lines a story can be born bought and sold . . .

Leaving a reader plundering excessively - in its whole . . .

With another two lines added with it - just ups it game . . .

As long as the two lines do not end up saying the same . . .

As a “Dyslexic” - so long to be able to even this write . . .

All those thoughts- stories - poems I hear in the night . . .

Learning never went to whether it was a verb or a noun . . .

Found myself writing it - however it may come to sound . . .

Should I in progressing my ante - to all then be uplifted . . .

Then on with it all as what I see to me as - “God” gifted . . .

And then on in passing my pen should then become idle . . .

A press of a page here - I can read from all the poet idols . . .

Now in my head with your help - become more inspired . . .

This my - poetic friends - in truth can’t ever be denieth . . .

“Sonnets” are from now for me - things to be read and enjoyed . . .

Where the hard work you have put in can no longer with toyed . . .

A lesson to us all in its skill - a token to you I now with it admire . . .

No longer in its fundamental intelligence - am I now in the mire . . .

But as to you my “Sonnet” as to write - I can only be lamented . . .

Trying to get one penned to paper – so near left me “Demented” . . . ; )

After thought . . .

“So” - all “Hail” to our very own real “Sonnet” exquisite - ers . . .

 Sat in the “Pub” penning it all - while scuppering a few beers . . . ; ) 

Indiana Shaw . . . : )