Sonnet XLIII, Phantom Shore of Fae

©Nov. 8th 2021, Olan L. Smith (a couplet sonnet)

The many sprites will hop from room-to-room

        And they'll propel through stacks and thrice assume

They'll need encyclopedic royal blue,

        Read three and call for one; see one is true.

Heroic? Nervy? What's your holy grail

        To be, a P or U or B? The snail

Proclaims to all, and he allows your dream

        To witness lowest worlds of in-between,

Yet, understand the Phantom Shore of Fae,

        Where elven charm converts a Christmas sleigh,

Where spaceships glide through ocean water's air,

        Where elephants are pink and blue; and bare,

Unscented farts propel a craft through space,

And aliens thumb their nose, and gut the chase.

A.N. I've thought about doing a couplet sonnet since I read one written by the English Poet John Clare, b. 13 July 1793 d. May 1864, and it is a challenge, to say the least.