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Title: Sonnet for writers

by Rebecca from Kent | in writing, poetry

I took my pen into my hand and wrote
Of all the troubles that one can conceive.
The words gushed from my mind into the air
And from there plucked them and began to weave.
I wove the story of many a man,
Tales of journeys that were only to fail.
The life and times of those I could perceive.
The good, the bad and all those to prevail.
My pen leaked words that laced onto the page,
And without effort they began to show,
- Spoke silently from the sheet before me -
A talent that would only ever grow.
With absent mind and a redundant pen,
Do what if I could never write again?

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Since studying Shakespearean sonnets at school I haven't been able to stop writing them! It's so satisfying knowing you've grasped the strict rhyme scheme and metre!

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