Learning to write a sonnet

The Greater Lehigh Valley Writer’s Group has opened to members an invitation to submit short stories, essays and poems for possible inclusion in the  2027 Anthology  with a theme of “Writing from the heart.”

I have been fortunate to have three stories of mine selected for the last three anthologies, so I’m trying again this year.

For those interested in the other anthologies,  Google “Greater Lehigh Valley Writers Group,” or search Amazon.

In have two stories in mind, but I like this one that includes a test of writing skill.

I’ll finish the other one, too, having a back-up is a good plan.

So, this is the story: A 16-year-old Nathan, moved by a story written by his hope-to-be girlfriend, Carolyn Jackson, or Jaxx, wants to tell her his feeling in a sonnet. He has never written a sonnet.

Their teacher opens a contest: One month to write a perfect Shakesperean sonnet.

The story in part–there are other complications–is about Nanthan and Jaxx telling each other how much they care through their sonnets.

Part of the action of the story is Nathan learning to write a sonnet, an adventure I will be sharing, since I have never written one, and certainly no poetry as structured as a Shakespearean sonnet.

So, I’m practicing.

I have nine months before the deadline, so I’m gonna write a bunch of sonnets to see if I can  right.

Current image: flock of birds perched on bare tree in winter

Here’s the first:

No soft bird songs cracked the sky, forgiving and cold;

Clouds clustered, rumbled, piled to block the sun.

Sparrows twitter no more as cocky crows scold

As grumbling from war machines has begun.

Hide away weak things, soldiers need resolve;

The hot air must be forced open and hollowed

To accept  the screams the metal curtain dissolves

from the throats of those whose lives were borrowed.

But this is false: That there is no path for lovers;

Whispers drift unseen only to the ears intended

Like a kiss finger-thrown in a room of others.

May it gentle float to a spot best landed.

It’s not just eyes, this thing, not just fingers,

But a voice, a sighing hum that lingers.

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Published on December 12, 2025 10:06
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