I suppose it’s only fitting,
to write about love,
on this week we’ve got going,
up to Valentines day,
but instead of the usual sonnet,
I have tried the Sestina instead.
But why the Sestina instead?
It’s not really too fitting,
for poetry so flighty to be about love.
So what is going,
to become of Valentines day,
without it’s usual sing song sonnet?
But why do we always use the sonnet?
I’d rather break from the traditional and do something else instead.
I guess that’s all very fitting,
for what I really love,
besides my beautiful wife, is going,
and doing something different everyday.
So that all my days,
are not bound by the pentameter of the sonnet,
but are free form instead.
Or yet form fitted,
to some other style I truly love.
But then, where the devil is this poem going?
I’m not entirely sure where it was going.
For the life of my days,
I thought I was bashing the sonnet,
but I feel instead,
that another topic was more fitting.
Was it love?
I suppose it was love.
That was what I was going
to talk about today.
Not the silliness of the sonnet,
but the wonder and beauty of love instead.
For it is a topic more fitting.
But I’ve instead run out of time today,
I rambled on about the fitness of the sonnet,
and now I’m going to need to write another poem about love.
