In Which I Begin My Second One Hundred Sonnets

Today was bad, and so tonight's will be
A META-SONNET. No, it's not my first.
I've typed 100 to this blog, I see!
I'll let my readers rank them best to worst.
No longer is pentameter my foe;
No longer do these iambs haunt my dreams.
They are a natural part, an ebb and flow,
Of how I think and see the world, it seems.
I look upon this milestone with some pride.
I wasn't sure I'd still be doing this,
Thought sure by now my muse would sure subside,
And inspiration rob me of her kiss.
But something happens almost ev'ry day
That sets me off and winds up on display.