NaPoWriMo Panic Sonnet

At fifteen minutes after nine at night,

A sudden thought came swiftly to my mind,

That March, in all its glory, did take flight

And in its place had April left behind.

It being so, a month of poems lies

Ahead of me and I must make a start.

I’m bound to mess up many of these tries

And see my rhyme and meter fall apart.

But, being NaPoWriMo, I will sit

And wrack my tired brain for pithy lines,

For words that lift, inspire and …well, fit

Within the ode’s broad planes and steep inclines.

And if that proves too difficult to do

I’ll press delete and write a quick haiku.

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