How's a man to write a sonnet, can you tell,-
How's he going to weave the dim, poetic spell,-
When a-toddling on the floor
Is the muse he must adore,
And this muse he loves, not wisely, but too well?
Now, to write a sonnet, every one allows,
One must always be as quiet as a mouse;
But to write one seems to me
Quite superfluous to be,
When you 've got a little sonnet in the house.
Just a dainty little poem, true and fine,
That is full of love and life in every line,
Earnest, delicate, and sweet,
Altogether so complete
That I wonder what's the use of writing mine.
The Poet And The Baby
Paul Laurence Dunbar
(1)
Poem topics: I love you, house, life, sweet, true, complete, floor, adore, quiet, delicate, mouse, love, sonnet, write, I miss you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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