Fourteen taut lines, a tapestry of rhyme.
Three stanzas grace this form in grand display,
Each quatrain weaves its tale, in time sublime.
With measured cadence and recurring beat,
The iambic pentameter takes its flight.
A poet's brushstrokes, words so richly meet,
To paint emotions in ethereal light.
The quatrains build, layer upon layer,
Unveiling themes, entwining threads of thought.
Imagery blooms, vivid as May's fair,
Symbols emerge, with hidden wisdom fraught.
And then the turn, a pivotal refrain,
A shift of tone, a revelation's spark.
The final couplet seals the sonnet's chain,
A climactic flourish, leaving its mark.
So, let us revel in this sonnet's art,
Its harmony, its grace, its timeless power.
For in these lines, emotions find a chart,
A mirror to the human heart's sweet flower.