The Umbrella Sonnet

 Since I don't actually own an umbrella or own any photos of myself holding one, I opted to go outside and take this picture of me in the rain instead. I hope it is all you had ever hoped for.

Since I don't actually own an umbrella or own any photos of myself holding one, I opted to go outside and take this picture of me in the rain instead. I hope it is all you had ever hoped for.

In the spirit of digging through all of my old papers for yesterday's blog post, combined with the weather outside (gray, rainy, and cold), added to my new penchant for writing bad sonnets, I have decided to present to you The Umbrella Sonnet mentioned in yesterday's quiz, not once, not twice, but THRICE (that means three times)! Yes, such a treat.

The first rendition is that from my former self of old, the long forgotten college-age poetic genius I once was (this is sarcasm, btw). It fits into some structure that was not quite okayed by my lit professor. In other words, this is Draft 1.

Umbrellas

From my high perch I wake to see the rain
The breeze so softly carries wisps and traces
Of memories and of forgotten faces.
Below the ground bleeds with a coloured stain.
Circular wounds bleed on the crowded plain.
Flowing with the rain, battling time and space
They float towards their unnoticed hiding place.
They twirl and dance and dissipate as morning wanes.

My eyes effectively deceive! These wounds
Are not true wounds! Black, blue, red, white, and green
A myriad of colours, pattern'd blooms
Mix and match and blend a new and lovely screen
Harbor comfort from all the clouds that loom
O'er this glorious and momentary scene.

 This rubber duck seems to be enjoying the rain a great deal. I think we should all strive to be a little bit more like this duck -- Philosophy by Ariele.

This rubber duck seems to be enjoying the rain a great deal. I think we should all strive to be a little bit more like this duck -- Philosophy by Ariele.

I cringed as I typed that. My thoughts went something like this: Is that how you spell wisps? Does the breeze really carry faces? Maybe I should've gone to the doctor. Or a scientist--something seriously seems to be wrong with the ground... OMG, I'm SO EXCITED THAT THE GROUND ISN'T ACTUALLY BLEEDING. "My eyes effectively deceive!" And 'pattern'd'! I really used the word 'Pattern'd'!

It doesn't even make sense.

Now let's take a gander at draft #2 with a format approved by my professor.

Umbrellas

From my high perch I wake to see the rain
Alighting on everything in my sight
I glance below and start with pure delight;
Spots cascade across the gray, wet plain.

These spots confuse my sleepy brain.
The colours blur, black, green, blue, yellow, white.
They move and dance in arbitrary flight,
Slowly dissipating as morning wanes.

I think, and then I finally can see
These spots that move gracefully without sound
Are quite common. I quite smile gleefully
For these instruments so petite and round
Protect the bearer from getting soggy
And look to be a sunset on the ground.

This one makes a little more sense at least, although I appear to have been easily confused back in the days of yore. Apparently, if you look down on umbrellas from above, they look like little colourful bubble ninjas running around everywhere. That said, I think it's much more boring than Draft 1. The metaphor that the earth is bleeding and my excitement over the fact that all is not as I imagined is much more interesting than this basic description.

 I tried to get the rain in the sky behind me, but it mostly just looks like I'm confused and terrified that I'm being abducted by aliens. I guess the confusion didn't lessen with age.

I tried to get the rain in the sky behind me, but it mostly just looks like I'm confused and terrified that I'm being abducted by aliens. I guess the confusion didn't lessen with age.

So let's scurry on forward to the present day.

I give you this wonderful piece called "The Umbrella Sonnet," written by modern day Ariele (with an Ariele-approved structure), on the usefulness of an umbrella. In the air of transparency, I don't actually own an umbrella and perhaps I should never own one. I will leave that up to you to decide. 

At any rate, this poem was cobbled together with the hope that, at very least, it is more entertaining than my past self's versions. But seriously, counting syllables is hard although I am grateful that I only needed 10, as that is the same number as I have fingers. You should try writing a sonnet sometime. I dare you.

Anyway, enjoy :)

The Umbrella Sonnet

Umbrellas are good for so many things,
Like keeping hair dry or giving you wings
So you can fly on a wet, windy day,
And easily avoid car tire spray.

If you need to poke an enemy's eye,
An umbrella spike will let you be sly.
Umbrellas are good for clearing the way--
A live battering ram to part the fray.

Most importantly, an umbrella will
Look classy and rich with bowtie and twill,
Spats and a top hat, a cane and mustache,
And one last item--a large bit of cash.

You'll impress the ladies, men, and small kids
'Til the universe says you are lunch for a squid.

 

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