The NaPoWriMo http://www.napowrimo.net/ for day 14 was to write a sonnet. I love sonnets, they whole nine yards: about love and in iambic pentameter. Still, a sonnet is a bit imposing after another day of manual labor, so I thought I would jot down something quick.
After the new shed is erected tomorrow, everything should get back to normal.
THE NEW GIRL
by Mike Patrick
Her first day on my yellow bus began
romantic thoughts before unknown. She sat
the third row back, my mind . . . it overran
the bounds of all the thoughts it could begat.
Dark hair in braids of luster caught my eye,
as did the shape of lips of faintest rose.
Her smile of nervous welcome was so shy,
my heart experienced its loves first throes.
I sat beside her, looking straight ahead,
afraid to speak. My words could not convey
teenage emotion. Through my body spread
a chill much colder than the early day.
And all the way to school it was the same.
She left the bus; I failed to get her name.