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Jun 16, 2008
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Sonnet To The Birth Of Ideas
A special place where the geniuses go,
To find ideas, that flutter in the sky.
A colourful place, filled with heav’nly glow
It’s walls are filled with dusty books piled high;
Hidden within pages caterpillars dwell
Eating words, growing up into a story
Locked inside a delicate chrysalis shell
They cascade out, bursting forth in glory
Butterfly wings flutter in a dance,
A stream of colour, flickers in their flight;
We pluck them from the air taking a chance
When caught in hands they struggle and fight,
So we try and catch them within a net
Write them down in words; to never forget.
— Jacob, Jun 16, 2008
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Critiques
Unlight
17 years 11 months ago
Jacob,
Jacob
17 years 11 months ago
Thanks
Janice Pearce
17 years 11 months ago
Jacob
Janice Pearce
17 years 11 months ago
Jacob
Jacob
17 years 11 months ago
Thanks for the links they
Unlight
17 years 11 months ago
Yes, the iambic pentameter
weirdelf
17 years 11 months ago
It is in no way a sonnet, but is a good poem
Synchro
17 years 11 months ago
the critiques above
Jacob
17 years 11 months ago
Thanks
weirdelf
17 years 11 months ago
I recommend