Raenaron’s Sonnet
"How do I write a damn poem?" he asked sink words into meaning, then parch them to dry With heights that do thunder and chasms so vast, How could my four-iamb stanza run spry?! "Start from the things that you've lost," I did say, Then wondered if pith that I ousted was true He looked at me lost, and then looked away Perhaps my purport was me more than you? In this or that case, I speak of it, and on it Our interesting talk did give meat to this sonnet.














