Whose speech veers from f*ck to cor l*mmy.

She wanted to come up with a mnemonic
For remembering the form of a sonnet
She cried AB twice CD
CD,EF twice ‘fore G.
For GH is the last couplet,innit? .

She wanted to write for the dummies
Whose speech veers from f*ck to cor l*mmy.
Vernacular they call it
to which we cry,no sh*t,twit
My eyes, like my cup, are now runny.

Mirth seems to rise from my studies.
As the breath rises up from our bodies.
Breath mingles each day
In  al our airways.
Our lungs, if not minds, are all buddies

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About Kate Thwaite

I love writing , conversation, art, wild flowers, music and air.And books
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