Author's Note: This was written for English, as I would never write a sonnet on my own free will. This follows the common English sonnet format, four quatrains; three having four lines and the last having two. The only rule I didn't follow (as my teacher didn't require it) was writing in Iambic Pentameter, which requires each syllable to be stressed and unstressed respectively. It had to be about someone we love. Once in awhile I will write a poem I like, so I hope you enjoy it.
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How does one put beauty into words?
One incapable could never be named poet
Its vocation never stands straightforward
I feel it is my duty to owe it.
But what other inspiration then you?
You, who divine aspire to be as fair
For such a paragon reaches so few
As such immaculate grace is so rare.
Oh the elementary things one want
To be glorified by your winsome smile
Or see your face and be sent on a jaunt
These would make any endeavors worthwhile.
Now named a poet; this here is just done,
I shall stay masked, for these have just begun.
