The Sonnet is probably my favourite poetry form. I love the musicality of it. Yesterday’s poem was an English (or Shakespearean) sonnet. Today, I’m going to try an Italian (or Petrarchan). The Italian sonnet is much more difficult, as every line rhymes with at least one other line.
Dreams
I’ve always dreamed I’d one day be a mom.
Yes, I’d like to be successful too:
To see my name in print would be so cool,
To reach the world with words, and to become
Alive and free, no longer cold and numb.
I love to dream up worlds: make something new,
To ask the questions “Where?” and “Why?” and “Who?”
Yet, times I’d rather change a baby’s bum.
I believe I’ll realise my dreams,
Although they seem so far away right now.
“Nothing is impossible!” I scream;
My barbaric yawp drowns out the “How?”
And all I see is distant joyful gleams.
