In the Style of Shakespeare

So last night, Lucas called me and asked if I could help him with a particular assignment. He's taking Mrs. Bingham's Creative Writing Class at Lehi, which was by far my favorite class probably throughout all of grade school when I took it during my last semester there. I just loved the curriculum, I loved the way Mrs. Bingham taught, and I loved having the excuse of an assignment to actually sit down and write, which I sometimes put off if I didn't have to, but still enjoyed immensely whenever I did. The assignment was to write a poem in the style of a sonnet. (He was asked to write a fourteen line poem, but not necessarily to stick 100% to the rhyme scheme/iambic pentameter that is usually found in sonnets.) The poem was supposed to be about someone he loved, and to have a turn at the end, in sonnet style. Lucas said that he would like to write the poem about me (what a sweet little brother) and told me that if I came into his class so that he could read it to me, he would get a lot of extra credit points. Ha:) Of course I agreed. He came over a little later and we began to construct what we've decided to entitle, "Lucas's Love Poem" together. I know he didn't have to be limited by the traditional sonnet setup, but I thout it would be neat if we tried to make it work anyway. We had a lot of fun laughing and listing and brainstorming and rewriting some goofy stuff before we settled on a final product. In my defense, Lucas came up with most of it, and I just helped him organize his thoughts, so I'm not really this conceited, but it was a cute idea. Voila! Lucas's Love Poem. :)

There is a girl so confident and bright,
Demure at times, though wily still inside.
She brightens up the room like mornings light;
Audacious to a fault, but short of pride.

Her eyes are blue as azure summer skies,
Her hair like fire, falling past her cheeks.
It seems no foul mood can be her demise.
She spouts off humor every time she speaks.

No doubt all men would deem her quite a catch;
She turns their heads at any distant sight.
She'll make one lucky man a splendid match;
He'll say she was well worth the gallant fight.

Yet I'm immune to all that here depicts her.
And how can I resist? Well, she's my sister.