For reasons I have yet to understand,
My love of poetry elicits shock
Among my friends! As if it's far too grand
For one who lives her life by list and clock!

But, oh, how mathematical its flow,
Its stately step of syllable and rhyme!
Enclosed within its shell but all aglow,
A poem tickles fate and jousts with time!

Precise as any proof, its measurements
Cannot exceed the space it's been assigned,
But through the rules that force it to condense,
It bursts with thought, all strictures undermined!

Exploding soundlessly upon the page,
Ideas in a poem never age!

Author's Note

Everybody knows how to build a sonnet, right? Still, the article on Wikipedia can offer a refresher course to all and sundry.