This is my first attempt at a Shakespearian sonnet with its iambic pentameters. I found the rhyming scheme and the rhythm difficult as I seem to think in rhyming couplets and had to shake off this habit. I hope that you endorse the love theme as appropriate for a sonnet although I couldn’t go too cerebral.
Oh, when did my sweet love of thee begin?
Hippo dear, was it thy tiny eye and ear?
Surely it wasn’t thy wrinkled tough skin
Or the plunge thou takes when I draw near.
Is it envy of thy water-hole day?
Or ev’ntide, when I see thee lumber on shore,
Carefree, no enemies upon thee to prey
Then thou eats ‘til thou can eat no more
Oft times thy mouth gapes open at me
No loving kiss but yellow teeth inside
Then thy roar matches in ferocity
And I know that ‘tis best I go and hide.
Come now, why is my love not returned,
Even when methinks that it is earned?
Copyright © 6/6/2013 Jane Stansfeld