Sonnet XLIII, Phantom Shore of Fae
©Nov. 8th 2021, Olan L. Smith (a couplet sonnet)
The many sprites will hop from room-to-room
And they'll propel through stacks and thrice assume
They'll need encyclopedic royal blue,
Read three and call for one; see one is true.
Heroic? Nervy? What's your holy grail
To be, a P or U or B? The snail
Proclaims to all, and he allows your dream
To witness lowest worlds of in-between,
Yet, understand the Phantom Shore of Fae,
Where elven charm converts a Christmas sleigh,
Where spaceships glide through ocean water's air,
Where elephants are pink and blue; and bare,
Unscented farts propel a craft through space,
And aliens thumb their nose, and gut the chase.
A.N. I've thought about doing a couplet sonnet since I read one written by the English Poet John Clare, b. 13 July 1793 d. May 1864, and it is a challenge, to say the least.