2018 Sonnet 11

Every waltz has three beats to the measure.
All Rock n Roll has four beats to the bar.
A sonnet, be it trash, be it treasure,
Has 10 syllables per line, not to star

Because it won’t set to music without
Stretching the syntax to maintain the rhyme.
The Bard was a half-decent playwrite, no doubt,
But hardly a lyricist of his time.

So what shall I do? Shift gears and formats?
Return to limericks fitting four-four?
I write the songs that fall flat as doormats,
Sing to the sky as I lie on the floor.

I wrote fifty rhymes that were set to song.
When I’ve writ fifty sonnets, I’ll move on.

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