tavie.com

Now, my fondness for iambic pentameter comes directly from Miss Pardilla. I remember the exact day it began. It was her birthday. (I don't remember the exact day of that, because she was always so secretive about it, so let's call it Gessellinday.) We were IMing, as we were wont to do. I don't remember what led up to it, but I remember her charging me to go, spit-spot, hurry off and write her a Shakespearean sonnet. That, she added helpfully, means it has to be in iambic penatmeter. She sent me to a helpful webpage to explain the form of a Shakespearean sonnet, and what exactly iambic pentameter was.

So I went, and done it, and posted it to the newsgroup.
I remember it from memory.

You thought I wouldn't tell, but you were wrong.
A birthday is important, this I know
and isn't something passed without a song
or opportunity for me to crow,

"O Jen, o darling Jen, o silly thing!
Let not the bushel this day hide your light!
I know you'd not leave me alone to sing--
my harmony alone would not sound right!"

And up the steps of treefort, squawking proud-
and tune-lessly as eaglets in their nest,
I'd be so helpless 'fore the cringing crowd,
you'd give their aching ears a needed rest,

By drowning out my sorry birthday tune
with voice so fair, 'twould make Le Poupee swoon.

And I just checked it with Google, and I'm right.

Good times.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 1:34 PM | shower me with attention