I get up early while you’re still asleep;
avoiding the cats, I creep down the stairs,
try not to wake you with my leaden feet,
stumble over work boots and into chairs.
The bathroom floor’s cold, and the toilet seat,
the sink is laced with toothpaste and stray hairs.
The cat litter smells and they want to eat;
I need some tea before I sort out theirs.
I grab a rug as I search for a pen –
there’s a chill in the early morning air.
Raising the blind, I look at the garden’s
half-light and shadows concealing a deer;
the faint echoes of a sonnet appear,
reminding me why I love living here.
Kim M. Russell, 16th April 2017
On Day 16 of The Poetry School’s NaPoWriMo prompts, we’re writing sonnets.
Andrew Parkes poses questions: What are the basic bones of a sonnet? 14 lines and a bit of a jink two thirds of the way through? Today’s the day to flex our formal muscles and show what the sonnet is to us. Whether we go Petrarchan, Shakespearean, Stretched or Submerged, today The Poetry School wants to see the perfect poetic containers of our sonnets.
For guidance, they’ve given us some info on the sonnet and two examples: a cheeky classic from Shakespeare,’ Sonnet 130: My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun’ and something more modern from Molly Peacock -https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems-and-poets/poems/detail/46482.