In the dark of a night
After a thinking spree
I regrettably tried to
Write a sonnet
But since I had
A bee in my bonnet
It didn’t quite work out
Much to my dismay
So I began to pout
What troubles you?
So they all did ask,
Seeing my face
Turning blue
As I hissed and fumed
My very state did scare
A rather weary moon
Once more I failed to
See upon the wall
A genius token tale
Of yonder and of yore
Upon a varied vale
But I regret that quickly
I must go as you
Begin to yawn, or I will
Not be back again
Alas that would be scorned
...
