A Friday Sonnet

Elizabeth Barret Browning's Sonnet 43 is a much loved poem in my family. It is lovely and was one of the first poems I ever remember reading/hearing/discussing. If you aren't familiar with it:

Sonnet 43
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints – I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! – and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

So, when I decided to start writing some (in my opinion) humorous crafting poetry, I knew I had to write my own variation of Sonnet 43:

Sonnet 17
How do I screw up? Let me count the ways.
I miss a stitch at the row's start
And do not notice 'til it's become part
Of the piece, where fixing is no longer
An option; to rip it out? I ponder.
I sew wrong sides together with the seams
Ugly and outside, but my dreams
Always show a perfect masterpiece.
I skip out on the gauge swatch
And it doesn’t fit in the least.
I'll start a new project to botch.
Tediously cut the fabric for a piece,
Forget the seam allowance at the crotch.


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