Thursday, February 15

A Valentine Binge

So, I've been overcome by Valentine's Day. I admit it. I thought I could look it firmly in the eye, and wilt it with my withering stare. But no. I am not that strong. I have littered the blogosphere with hideous rhyme (written with sweat and grime), sentimental quotes (which haven't won me any love notes) and sighed over sappy verse (to which I was never averse). What is worse than all of that (yeah worse than the stuff in the parantheses even) however, is an unfair allegation (pliss to see the comments section) levelled against me by one who should have known better, one feels *sigh* (or at least one feels that anyone should have known better, not this one in particular, cos one doesn't really know this one, or even who this one is!). However, to keep my word (and also cos I can't stop myself from rhyming! Dang it!) I shall produce the promised Valentine here. And, before you sigh and patiently read the abominations that I shall spew forth (at least I hope you will read the said a. cos otherwise I shall be heartbroken and will sally forth to join the Vogons, who have extended a standing invitation to me btw), I promise you that this shall be my last Valentine (for this year that is). There, hope you're happy!

A Sonnet to N-with-the-exclamation-mark (but not in iambic pentameter cos i suck at it)

Shall I compare thee to a winter storm
So cold, so icy, the winds of your disdain
Your wicked jibes upon my slender form
Pelt, your cruel laughter like sleeting rain.

But yet, you add lightly, with gentle glow
That last mitigating glance, the addendum
Like winter sunshine after the drifting snow
The throwaway endorsements, I adore 'em.

Indeed what winter would melt in one instant
What blizzard vanish before an eye's blink
Then, how could I quicksilver maidens resent
Do not for a moment that, fair one, think.

Though winter's harsh beauty might justly contest
My monosyllabic lady, you are by far the cruellest.

Disclaimer: For all protests and complaints please contact Valentine, Saint at #666, Ninth Heaven, c/o God Inc.


maya said...

first :)

Nath said...

"A Sonnet to N-with-the-exclamation-mark (but not in iambic pentameter cos i suck at it)"

But that is sort of in iambic pentameter. Granted, its iambic pentameterness declines as it continues, but it starts in iambic pentameter.

Anonymous said...

@maya: :)

@nath: I know! I always start off with great precision and then deteriorate rapidly! Sez something about me, I suppose :P