While the rest of the Crew played a brief game of dice before the lunch break ended, Dorgot polished off his briarthorn and stranglekelp sandwich, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and then pulled out a pencil and a grocery receipt out of his dull gray work shirt pocket.
For a minute he gathered his thoughts, recalling what little he could of how sonnet poems were built. Was it twelve lines or seven? Surely seven; who ever could write 12 full lines?
And they all had to rhyme. And they had to go Bum de Bum de Bum.
He swung his short legs back in forth in agitation, swinging as hard as he was thinking. Then he put pencil to back of receipt and wrote:
Her lovely eyes of color
Her hair so long and
He scratched out this first go, realizing that he'd never find 6 other words to rhyme with color.
Her lovely eye so blue
For a minute he gathered his thoughts, recalling what little he could of how sonnet poems were built. Was it twelve lines or seven? Surely seven; who ever could write 12 full lines?
And they all had to rhyme. And they had to go Bum de Bum de Bum.
He swung his short legs back in forth in agitation, swinging as hard as he was thinking. Then he put pencil to back of receipt and wrote:
Her lovely eyes of color
Her hair so long and
He scratched out this first go, realizing that he'd never find 6 other words to rhyme with color.
Her lovely eye so blue
