When August comes, my world's soon wilted, spent.
A sizzling sun will bleach the blue sky white,
then suck all life from Earth without consent
and leave a stricken landscape scarred with blight.
Hot winds cork-screw through crowns of cottonwoods,
cycloning curled-up leaves into the air.
They swirl then settle where an old barn stood,
a grassless splotch of ground, maltreated, bare.
I've hated August more than sixty years,
all since that sultry morn my grandpa died,
I sprinted to his barn to shed my tears.
Entrapped by stifling heat, I whimpered, cried.`
Though I consider summer eves a treat,
I've long equated Death with August heat.
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| Writing Prompt |
Write a sonnet on a subject you'd never expect to find in a sonnet. Can be funny, scary, silly or just totally, balls-to-the-wall, loopier than a slinky on a rollercoaster insane.
Must be a properly formatted 'classic' or heroic sonnet - I want iambic pentameter, an abab rhyme structure in the quatrains and a rhyming couplet, and either three or four quatrains. Kudos if you also incorporate a turn.
MUST not have a predictable subject (eg romance or nature) unless there's an unexpected twist!
No other theme restrictions. Bad language, sex and violence are all fine.
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Author Notes
Artwork is courtesy of Google images
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