'Twas nearly twenty years ago by now, nineteen to be exact, and doubtless must forever remain something of an intriguing mystery. The memory chancing to come to mind at breakfast, it seemed a good size for the sonnet, yet composing the octet and sestet simultaneously, it was something of a chore and seems only half-baked. Mayhap it should have been explored in at least two sonnets? Or what do you say? On the heels of Valentines Day, it seemed sufficiently apt, or? And "-ong/-eld" end-rhymes seem scanty for options, I belatedly discovered, maybe that's why I like never use them?
(sonnet # DXLV)
'Twas Christmas and our class would celebrate,
Of course. A gift exchange, all names witheld,
And vis'ting var'ous homes; some games that held
The promise of small fun; the only weight
Was what my pauper means could spare, which fate
Repaid too kindly as it chanced, yet spelled
My folly? Blind, chagrined nigh tears, I quelled
Love in a glance? Or Cupid could not wait?
I don't recall exactly, but I know
It was dark blue, with twin stripes and quite long,
Nor used (much) aye, and clean; this from the toe
To nigh the stripes was full with romance' song?
A bunch of choc'late kisses. Boyish, oh
Yes, silly girl. Yet, t'whom d'you do the wrong?