I had to write a sonnet for my Shakespeare class this week, and unsurprisingly the topic had to be love (oh joy, went my brain). I'll have you know, dear Readers, that poetry of any sort is not my strong point, and never has been. And of course, sonnets have to follow certain rules: 14 lines long, each line has to have 10 syllables, every other line ending has to rhyme with each other, and the last two lines have to be a rhyming couplet. Of course, as soon as I heard these rules, Genius instantly rebelled and started composing poetry that contradicted these rules at every turn. The only plus that I could initially see was that while the topic of was love, we were free to write about love in any manner we wished. It could be satirical, serious, or nonsense. And we didn't have to write about a person - we could write about an object, an idea, an animal - anything, so long as it somehow pertained to love.
Well, my gears finally got turning. I was at first going to write a sonnet inspired in some way by Sherlock Holmes. Maybe from a madly in love fan who had just read The Final Problem. Or something like that. But I didn't want my sonnet to be serious. Ah! I could write about an eccentric lady's love for silly hats! Or how about a poor urchin's new-found love for books? I could, indeed, has written of Despereaux's love for Princess Pea, if I so wanted. We were allowed to draw inspiration from anywhere.
But then my thoughts turned to Pride and Prejudice. Everyone knows the love matches in that, right? Elizabeth Bennett and the "famous" Mr. Darcy, and their dislike for one another, which eventually turned to love. But I thought, Wait a minute. Does Elizabeth really love Mr. Darcy? Or . . . Well, she really didn't start thinking of him in tender ways until she saw . . . Pemberley. Ah-ha! It's his house she loves! And thus began my sonnet. But let me put credit where credit is due before I share this amateur masterpiece with you: my sister did help me when it came to the actual structure. As I said, poetry is not my strong point, and she loves writing poetry - the more challenging the rules, the better she likes it. So, I have to lend some thanks to her help - it would not have turned out nearly as good as it did. And so I give you:
True Love's Foundation
By Miss P. Meddler
When first we met thy arrogance loath'd I;
Apathetic in thy lofty station.
But this first impression did truth belie;
I had not yet seen thy sound foundation!
To thy splendid abode the Fates brought me,
The veil of disdain from mine eyes was drawn.
A man like a fortress ye surely be!
Magnanimous as thy vast em'reld lawn,
Thy build is majestic in form and grace
Like marble columns perfectly aligned.
Th'rt regal even as the Grand Staircase.
More perfect a refuge God hath not designed.
I have ever looked on thee tenderly
Since first I did see thy fair Pemberly.
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