In Which Spring Break Affects Even Your Humble Sonneteer

I do believe that spring may come at last.

The bank clocks says it's seventy degrees

Outside. And water drips and spreads as vast

And dirty banks of snow melt (they'll refreeze

Again; it's only March) become the mud

That marks the season. Spring break in the park

With my friend Bonnie, a stir in my blood

Arose as kites flew overhead. A stark

And vivid contrast to how I have spent

Such afternoons of late, huddled and cold,

A bikeskimo in layers of clothes and bent

Close to the handlebars, windswept yet bold.

Now ease and sunlight mean I have to share

The greenway with more folks, but I don't care!

A P.E. Flunkee's Visit To A Gymnastics School

A skill I never had's in practice here.

These earnest children tumble, twirl and turn --

The elders even fly! This is no mere

Diversion. I see Bethany and learn.

I love the pride on Bonnie's daughter's face,

A run of cartwheels now beneath her belt,

Well executed, at an even pace.

Accomplishment's a thing I never felt

Upon the mats in element'ry school.

For me, this sport brought on a sense of shame;

In mind quite sound, in body such a fool

I felt an utter failure at this game --

And never even saw that it is one.

Say nothing of the thought it might be fun.

In Which The Birthday Bonfires Are Lit for @MrsNic08

You see that Bonnie Nic has got great taste

In books and many other things as well.

And though these lines are written in some haste

(Your sonneteer is in a kind of hell

Since Bonnie's baby daughter shared her germs),

A day like this cannot pass by unmarked;

It's Bonnie's birthday, and like all good nerds

She needs a sonnet; now the Bonfire's sparked

(For that's her nickname and she's earned it so!),

And celebrations must commence anon

(They have been going on since Tuesday, though,

A pirate raid on bookstore close upon

The heels of sushi-scarfing), Bonnie, dear,

Congrats; you've made it through another year!

Sonnet Dare: In Which I Summarize Some Follow Fridays

Cruel Nikki dares me rattle off by name
Those Twitter folk I've called as stalkable.
Al Bruno, Oliveri, Cullen - blame
Her that you're abused here. The lovable
Dear BardoRobot, BlazingBetta and
Ms. Jennybeans and Melzer, Ron McD
And Christian Wiehs, Stephan Spiegel, oh man!
O Jason Copland, Tee Monster... let's see...
My Bonfire rescued me from a migraine
(Or at least staved it off). My Lisbeth West
And Oliver T. Earle both make it plain
This world's a wonder. I can't choose the best,
From 'mongst my Twitter friends, mostly eschew
This Follow Friday thing. How about you?

In Which I Randomly Summarize My Day

A Babelfish for Boomhauers is my wish,
While CapnMarrrrk craves bacon swizzle sticks
For his hot chocolate. My girlfriends dish
About some guy I've never met. So ticks
A boring Satuesday doing shift work.
The Bonfire can't stop with the choc'late nosh,
While Sarah tries so mightily to shirk
The lure of her new iPhone (with panache,
Though I still bet she checks here). All the while
Dear Oliver plots death for those who pace,
And Christian works so hard to make me smile
Translating from the Deutsch. Oh, ow, my face
I laugh despite a melancholy start
To this, my day. I thank y'all from my heart.

In Which I Ponder A Strange Metaphor

This morning, as I rose ere dawn, we had
A temperature of Zero Degrees "Eff"
(With emphasis on "Eff"; I won't be bad
And spell out what that stands for). Some foul theft
Of all our warmth had happened in the night,
And sunrise did not bring us more. It's cold -
More so than a well-digger's butt, all right,
As my friend Bonnie eloquently told
Her Facebook friends, which prompted a profound
Discussion, how the baseline readings came
To be established? Did one ask around
And quote well-diggers' feelings name by name?
Or was data - empirical and real
Recorded. Just how cold did each butt feel?

In Which I Pass A Pleasant Afternoon

My Bonfire is a special kind of gal,

She's curious, amusing and will try

Most any crazy thing I think of. Shall

I tell you how we made a lunch hour fly

And turn into a total afternoon?

First sushi lunch, Cthulhu on some rice,

I had Sapporo, too, but she was soon

To head to work, which wasn't all that nice

But we made good the time we had. What more?

The sushi joint just happens to be near

Our friendly local Barnes & Kipple store

(The tale behind that sobriquet, I fear

Is too involved for this here sonnet). Just

A simple, perfect day. Repeat we must!