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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
18 years 1 month ago
Jacob,
Jacob
18 years 1 month ago
Thanks
Janice Pearce
18 years 1 month ago
Jacob
Janice Pearce
18 years 1 month ago
Jacob
Jacob
18 years 1 month ago
Thanks for the links they
Unlight
18 years 1 month ago
Yes, the iambic pentameter
weirdelf
18 years 1 month ago
It is in no way a sonnet, but is a good poem
Synchro
18 years 1 month ago
the critiques above
Jacob
18 years 1 month ago
Thanks
weirdelf
18 years 1 month ago
I recommend
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