Sonnet or Moonnet.

For the 27th day of Na/GloPoWriMo, I’d like to challenge you to “remix” a Shakespearean sonnet.

Shakespeare Sonnet XII
When I do count the clock that tells the time,
And see the brave day sunk in hideous night;
When I behold the violet past prime,
And sable curls, all silvered o’er with white;
When lofty trees I see barren of leaves,
Which erst from heat did canopy the herd,
And summer’s green all girded up in sheaves,
Borne on the bier with white and bristly beard,
Then of thy beauty do I question make,
That thou among the wastes of time must go,
Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake
And die as fast as they see others grow;
And nothing ‘gainst Time’s scythe can make defence
Save breed, to brave him when he takes thee hence.

Remodelled: D’you reckon this is what Waggle-assegai was getting at?

When I check out how late the day has got
And find the daylight turned to nasty dark;
When I can see the flowers start to rot
And find the grass all frosted in the park;
When all the flipping trees of leaves are bare
And don’t give cows the slightest bit of shade;
And, bundled up, you see the crops sit there:
Dead plants, from which now breakfasts will be made;
Then being pretty isn’t a big deal
When you in due course ug-ger-ly must be,
While others soon your fame and fortune steal,
Which has existed, then, so fleetingly;
The only way obscurity escaped,
Is when with lots of offspring you are draped.

© April 2019 Colonialist