poeme

So i'm kind of doing a writing course... actually i'm doing a communications course, but the subject i'm doing at the moment is creative and professional writing. The other day, I had the most difficult and unenjoyable experience of any writing I've ever done (and i've done a bit...). I had to write a sonnet.


that's right, A SONNET.



Oh COME ON... who actually WRITES SONNETS after 1852? Why would I want to, much less ever NEED to know how to write a sonnet? Iambic pentameter is a very funky sounding term, but one which I hope never to have to use in any context ever again.


Got that? NEVER AGAIN.



Oh right, and did I forget to mention, the sonnet had to be about the weather.


Now, I don't think I have ever submitted (or indeed even written!) something that I honestly thought was just terrible, until now. Nor have I ever written something that so DESPERATELY needed more work, but been unable to bring myself to even think about, much less look at it again.


So without further ado, my sonnet.

To those who like their winter days, please come
To our fair town, we’ve hail and wind to spare.
For when it’s cold it chills right through your hair.
Then suddenly through rain, there’s warmth, the sun.

A multitude of rainbows grace our shores
And never do we know quite what we’ll get.
But here in Melbourne we are used to it
With freezing sun and tepid rain galore.

Am I someone who would prefer more heat?
Perhaps for holidays and tans and at
the beach. But when the sun begins to beat,
My dreams consist of snow and ice and sleet.
So I resolve to be a person that
Enjoys each day, and never thinks to weep.