Sonnet I

Stylistic notes for anyone who cares:

This sonnet has a pseud0 title embedded in the rhyme scheme. It is written in the Miltonic-Petrarchan form.

Sonnet I

In each morning’s shower-time I gauge
How firmly circumstance has taken hold
Of what naiveté thought it controlled,
And slyly substituted matronage.
Each morning’s ritual practice to assuage
Relentless, irreversible footholds,
Each weak attempt to beat back or cajole,
Turns useful device in her vassalage.
And I’ve been told it is my place to wage
A bootless battle with this conqueror,
As if somehow she’d thereby condescend
To feign she’s not my rightful creditor.
Yet I have chosen rather to befriend
And forfeit any claims I have to war.

2 thoughts on “Sonnet I

  1. “Bootless”? I seem to recall a rather stern admonition against archaic language–unless this battle is in fact being waged without boots, in which case, why “bootless” rather than “shoeless”? Is the lack of boots somehow significant?

    I kid, of course. Looks like you’re off to a good start.

  2. Alliteration is a beautiful thing. And I certainly didn’t write something like “and I’ve been told it is my place to wage against this foe a bootless war”—

    Now that is the kind of archaism I hope to avoid.

    Of course, now I look at it, I was supposed to use “cajoled” not “cajole”–but call that a slant rhyme and we’ll move on to today’s sonnet, which, if of any merit, might show up here.

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