My bonnet is like a sonnet;
Don't ask me why?
Oh how lovely—
Isn't that 'Nympheas' by Monet?
—Pastel pond, blush blooms, green grass
Adorn the scene.
[My head is turbid,
My body languid.]
Like stained glass,
Your charisma is so serene.
The birds on the roofs are merry;
They rouse the day.
This sonnet is like a bonnet;
Go figure why.
About the Author: aLfie vera mella, otherwise eLf, is a nurse in profession and a literatus in avocation. Read more about him on http://www.elf-ideas.blogspot.com.
Source: www.isnare.com