2019 Day 18 – Prose Sonnet

How did you get on yesterday? Did you write a story?

Remember, set your own rules, and stick to them. If you miss a day, don’t try to catch up. Just keep moving forward!

The Prompt

Don’t worry: you don’t have to know anything about poetry and you don’t have to make this rhyme!

Write A Story In 14 Sentences

That’s it!

(Sometimes different forms can be surprisingly freeing so if you hate this idea, try it anyway!!)

If you know about the different types of sonnets (or want to research them) you could echo the thematic ‘rules’ that sometimes apply.

But don’t waste to much time worrying about that. Just write a story in 14 sentences.

Go!

Check back every day for more prompts, and don’t forget to come back and leave a comment to celebrate your writing successes, every day!

35 thoughts on “2019 Day 18 – Prose Sonnet”

  1. September Day 18
    Prose sonnet.
    Last May, I really enjoyed using a Shakespeare sonnet as a template for this challenge so I decided to do it again! I used Sonnet 18 this time.
    LOST LOVE
    Can I forget you for a single day?
    You, so dearer to me than any face.
    Though time passes swiftly by without delay
    And life has run it’s course with faster pace
    My love, so strong and deep, still throbs and shines.
    The flame within my heart is never dimmed
    And when new lovers come, my heart declines.
    By chance and nature, my passion still untrimmed.
    The essence of your love will never fade.
    I am yours today as in the grave you rest.
    Death, come to part us, to cast love in shade,
    Never halts my love, defying wicked test.
    With every breath, as with every heart beat,
    Held within my heart till once more we meet.

  2. I’ve been feeling bad because I’ve missed a few days writing and was determined to do the 14 line exercise today. So, here it is – maybe a few more than 14 lines, but …

    1. Today was the day she had waited for her entire life.
    2. She’d had 10 hours of sleep – her usual.
    3. The breakfast had been so-so, but there is only so much variety she was allowed at this age.
    4. A proper bowel movement was a necessity and this mornings had been a whopper.
    5. Still nothing could dim her excitement.
    6. The large man bent over and picked her up with little effort, her small frame dwarfed against his solid chest.
    7. She pushed him away hard, thinking, Put me down. Did I ask for any help? I can walk.
    8. Exasperated, she stumbled forward on shaky legs.
    9. Almost there, a little further
    10. She looked down at her feet and tried to place them in a straight line.
    11. Counting was not her strongest suit but she tried – 1, 2, 5, 7
    12. Her concentration was broken by the loud outbursts that surrounded her.
    13. OMG, Bradley. She’s walking at only 6 months. What a genius.
    14. I know, she said, and calmly plopped her butt on the sidewalk.

  3. Dare I compare you

    Dare I compare you to the dawn of a new day,
    Where the early morning rays fall humbly at my feet
    How your words move me in every conceivable way,
    As my grandiose gesture becomes so pale and weak,
    We are after all, merely shadows of some grand play
    Where we cannot see the hands that move the stage,
    And all thought, every statement that we say
    Is repeated like an echo spoken in a previous age,
    And if I speak these overused phrases lest they be said again,
    Will true sincerity shine through my love, as they did then,
    Or will my words become scripted like a Hallmark greeting card,
    Finding the precise expression can be, at times, tediously hard.

  4. I wrote two stories, one last night when the prompt arrived and one again this morning. I considered attempting a poem (on the same theme as the second piece ) using 14 lines, 10 syllables per line with rhythm ta-DUM ta-DUM ta-DUM ta-DUM ta-DUM and the rhyming pattern abab bcbc cdcd ee. Upon further consideration this was indeed a DUM idea when writing about Stanley, the hypoglycaemic cat, the one I thought was dead and when I asked why we would take a dead cat to the vet, my husband’s reply was “To get a second opinion” .

    “We thought he was a goner but the cat came back . . . “

    1. This made me laugh! We have a couple “he’s not dead yet…” stories about cats. You just never know how many of their 9 lives they have left.

      1. True. My husband has told our kids that if I call to say that he’s dead they are to get a second opinion (and you can see why).

  5. I’m a bit behind because I’m traveling, but I’m hanging with y’all! Wrote two stories on Monday while sitting in my favorite coffee house in the town where I went to college (back in the dark ages). Will be gone another 8-10 days but scheduling time to keep writing.

  6. Not knowing where to begin, I decided to use Shakespeare’s Sonnet 130 as a template to guide me.
    With huge trepidation and nervousness, I will share it with you all.
    The Issue
    My oak tree’s shade protects me as I sleep.
    Emerald looks paler than her leaves of green.
    The grass so green beside her trunk lies deep.
    The leaves so fine grow upon branches seen.
    I have known brown acorns tumble below.
    I see the acorns take root and thrive.
    And in soft earth they will grow and grow.
    So that over generations they survive.
    I love to think that her form will give shade.
    That birds will nestle in her canopy.
    Amongst such verdant trees within the glade.
    My descendants beneath her panoply.

    And yet, by heaven, my womb is wizen.
    There will no issue from me be risen.

  7. I started out trying to do 14 sentences. But there was so much I wanted to add & went with it. Wrote 500 words about a woman’s find at a barn sale/flea market.

  8. I really enjoyed today’s prompt. Even though it was only a little over 300 words I got snatched throughout the day. I thought it was going to be about a grumpy old man but it turned into a family dealing with grief!

  9. ok here is my Day 19 – Election Day (Australia had an election overnight)

    On this surprising election day
    We find the liberals have been given the right of way
    The left is now bereft and left in dismay
    All the polls did say, the left would get their way
    Maybe, just maybe there is some good to come from this day.
    The rightmost of the liberals losing their way
    To and independent woman that will better lead the way
    Fingers crossed my wife says
    Hopefully, the political class will find their way
    With the leadership of labor not in favour
    Maybe, just maybe they’ll let a woman lead the way
    Imagine that if you may
    A government that governs instead of always being in a fray
    One that might just lead the nation the correct way

    1. Can’t wait to read more about Dawn!

      And I’m rather uneducated on politics but I like the hopeful tone of your sonnet today!

  10. I hope I am doing the correct thing, but as a writer I have accepted many challenges even when they are out of my comfort zone as this one was. My best attempt at a sonnet.

    First Flight

    People still talk of the miracle of Kitty Hawk
    Why put all this emphasis on taking flight
    Taking flight when it’s easier to walk,
    Sometimes you wonder who is really right,
    When I spread my arms upward to the sky,
    I remember how dreams crashed and burned,
    Leaving us to the inevitable question of why
    Instead of examining what we have learned.
    Without having feathers or hollow bones
    We have conquered the sky on our own.
    Despite all the doubter and naysayers
    My life has been lived by a wing and a prayer.

    1. So great, George!
      My favorite line: “Without having feathers or hollow bones
      We have conquered the sky on our own.”

  11. I hope it’s ok to post this in the comments since its not terribly long and I don’t have a blog to post on.

    The Freedom of Flight

    She smiled warmly at the pilot as she guided her daughter toward the little Cessna, “this is her first flight, so she’s a little nervous.”
    “Nothing to worry about, flying is safe and fun, and I won’t do anything that would scare you.”
    After getting clearance, the airplane hurtled down the runway and lifted into the air.
    A lump in her throat, but still smiling, she hugged her wide-eyed daughter, “what do you think?”
    “I don’t know yet, not as scary as I thought,” the young girl answered tentatively, eyes darting to the pilot.
    “Relax a little and look around, check out the sights, and let me know if you have any questions,” he smiled broadly at the two of them, truly in his element introducing people to the joy of flying.
    Tears were welling up, when her daughter suddenly asked, “do you fly any other planes?”
    “Well, I fly some big jets for work and I fly a little aerobatic plane for fun too.”
    “I just like being in the sky, it’s where I feel most at home,” the man declared as he banked the plane gently in the pattern.
    She could no longer hold back the tears and they flowed freely, though the smile stayed on her face.
    “Oh no, is there a problem?” the pilot questioned, “the parents don’t usually cry!”
    “No, no, I’m really fine, you sounded like my dad just then,” she rushed to reassure him, “and the memories washed over me of all the days I spent just like this.”
    The pilot nodded understanding and asked, “How long has it been?”
    “Its been so long, much too long since I was in the air, since I let myself remember the good times,” she sighed as the sorrow weighing down her soul lifted with the freedom of flight.

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