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Sonnet of Myself

Pat Tyrer

I am a poem of fourteen lines of verse

who needs to have a rhythm to my life.

I prattle forth and sometimes may seem terse.

To me my sense of order seems just fine.

Precise and balanced well from stem to stern

I sail along with confidence and glee.

I know just where I’m going at each turn

and grateful, balanced, happy to be me.

I know a life of structure’s not for some.

What kind of world would that be after all,

with every single person being one

like dancers all in rhythm at a ball.

However, just for me the rules are fine.

No matter if I do live out of time.

Previously published by Form Quarterly, June 2015

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