The Tapping Glass
(Poetry) A Shakespearean Sonnet
Although this modern life has its demands,
my hands remain unoccupied today.
Yet here I lie inside the tapping glass,
as yearning woodland beckons in the rain.
I ought to get outside and run around,
cool weather passes just as it’s begun.
It’s summer almost ten months in this town,
and I can’t take a beating from the sun.
I often hike the trails nearby my home
and worry with routine I may get bored,
but buried in the loose alluvium
along the river’s edge is hidden gold.
Tuck in the sheet and smooth it on the bed,
I can lay and rot there when I’m dead!
Thanks for reading!




Loved the punchline at the end—that came as a surprise! Also this is beautifully written 💙🙏
Personally I prefer to bed rot while alive 😌