Unconventional Gambit: Sonnet


Shall I compare thee to a pile of dung
Left, still warm and steaming, by my horse?
So graceful, so well groomed, so well hung.
I describe the creature not myself of course
And pray my words may not, my darling, cause dismay.
Oh forgive a fool whose ardour outruns his tongue.
Should my simple similes offend thee what can I say
But that ’tis from untrimm’d spontaneity they’ve sprung?
If thou wrinkle thy nose at the smell, even sight
Of manure let my lips bid you reconsider the conceit.
Coming upon such ordure to the gardener is a delight
To be shovelled up and carried away tout de suite
For forking it into a bed is surely only but meet.
Without such sustenance would a rose smell so sweet?

~~~~~ ~ ~~~~~

c.f.Shakespeare’s Sonnet 18

This was written especially for Jamie Dides’ Wednesday Writing Prompt. This week’s prompt is ‘Reinvention’.


About Ben Naga

The Spirit that graces me with its passing has no name and stems not from thoughts and words, though it gathers them up as it flows, but from feeling.

Posted on May 1, 2020, in Poetry, Sonnet and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 12 Comments.

  1. Delightful … “a fool whose ardour outruns his tongue” … applause for this take on realities of Nature’s blend. [Recently visited a friend’s horse farm to collect some of that good garden goo … will send her the link to this and she’ll be grinning too.]

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Delightful improvisation ! Have a great weekend 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Artful, clever, and humorous sonnet, Ben. Much enjoyed! ☺️

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: