Miss Boob, miss Boob with your shape so plump you excite and you annoy little babies, dear,
are hungry so, and yet you only let men play. Like a peacock you display your warm soft charms, dear,
are horrible nightmares of girls well endowed and women left behind cherrish the attention, dear,
all I have for you is love, in my heart I hold you dear.
Image by law_keven via Flickr
This is a little ditty I slapped together after being challenged by one Ceridwen to find a way of joining together the topics of Shakespeare and my girlfriend. Naturally I couldn't pass up the challenge and since a dramaturgist I am not and there was once a time when I thought of myself as a bit of a poet the humble sonnet was an obvious choice.
However, the careful observer will note that the only semblance of a sonnet in this poem is the stanza structure, there is no rhyme to speak of - so not a sonnet, and the verse doesn't follow a ten syllable lambic pentameter either ... but hey, it was fun to write.
- Questions when Writing and Rewriting Poetry (coolcatteacher.blogspot.com)
- Daley Introduces "Talk Like Shakespeare Day" (chicagoist.com)
- Shakespeare Sonnet 111 (british-poetry.suite101.com)
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