I had to write a sonnet in the same form that Shakespeare used. Three quatrains and a couplet. One question and possible answers.


Tell me, darling, why is my skin on fire?

Perhaps the sun's heat holds a grudge against me.

Maybe it seeks to punish me for being a liar.

For that is the only reason I can see.

Or maybe it's my pure hatred for knitting

That makes my epidermis boil with negativity.

Although I don't think that solution is fitting,

My burning skin still holds my soul in captivity.

It could be something else entirely, like passion

That seems to keep my skin invisibly aflame.

This blaze cannot be covered simply by fashion

That would warm me further, unable to tame.

But maybe there's no answer to my Catch-22

I only hope that your skin cools mine, icy and blue.

Poetry by Katherinee x
Read 665 times
Written on 2010-10-19 at 01:02

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Very entertaining, and well done!!
Thank you,

jenks The PoetBay support member heart!
Well done here...
Discipline and application appreciated
Coupled with colourful sensitivity...
However...there is nothing wrong with knitting you know :)
best regards jenks.