A Sonnet on Sonnets
The sonneteers once stood on honored heights;
Now, though, their names are known by just a few.
Their rhyming verses–measured, sharp, and tight–
Don’t thrill the masses as they used to do.
The observations in a sonnet may,
In just a thimble, hold the entire globe.
But people don’t care much for thought today,
Preferring lizard brains to frontal lobes.
I cannot hope to summarize the world
In fourteen lines of mediocre verse.
The poems that you find here just unfurl
The rolled-up thoughts I have, for good or worse.
But maybe putting thoughts in measured rhymes
Can bring some structure to chaotic times.
Sonnets from the Pleiades 