thingsonnet where the ends of lines are rhymes of pairs of kinds of things [green with envy and pewter candlesticks (color adjective + nouns as adjectives for emotional state); inflexible and used up both descriptors for an analogue] instead of sound rhymes. forget about syllables, I spent all week writing terrible syllable count sonnets and i give up
form: aabb ccdd eeff gg in thingrhymes
color swatch (thing)sonnet
they told me i’d turn green with envy
but i felt more like pewter candlesticks
with wax dripping down, barren, inflexible,
a potential weapon, a cudgel, used up.
my friend says i’ve got decision fatigue
a kind of tiredness from choosing swatches. drained
by trying to make things match, cobbling
our old carpet and screen with a vintage
painting. inspiration arrives through the ten of cups
with a wide rainbow. finally, happiness. the dozen leprachauns
a leaping led by Seamus who brought us here to this sanctuary
brighten all small fields of color and the saturations blur to bliss.
i know from the twist in my chest we’ve reached perfection;
there are a thousand rays of light coming from inside the prism (of us).