I am a retired high-school English teacher from Potts Camp, Mississippi. Life in general and my grandchildren in particular inspire me to write. I especially enjoy writing—and reading—rhymed, metered poetry and mourn its near-demise. I get a real charge out of parodying the famous poems I taught my students—while keeping a perfectly straight face and assuring them that studying such noble literature would greatly enhance their lives. I stay busy with a variety of activities at home and church.
Sonnet 18 — NOT
Shall I compare thee to a glob of clay?
Thou art less ruddy but more flexible.
Cold weather makes the clay hard all the day
Whilst thou art soft and cozy dressed in wool.
Sometimes I step in clay and make a mess,
Then have to find a place to wipe my shoe.
But thou, my love, so clean and neat—O yes—
Lie waiting, arms outstretched, for me to woo.
But now, on second thought, I realize
A glob of clay can't argue, gripe, or squall.
It can't alarm the countryside with cries
Or blow my hard-earned paycheck at the mall.
So long as clay is mute and women boss,
I'll stick with clay and suffer not a loss.
©2016 Janice Canerdy