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All who joy would win Must share it --
Happiness was born a twin.
-- Lord Byron
Come, landlord, fill the flowing bowl until it does run over,
Tonight we will all merry be -- tomorrow we'll get sober.
-- John Fletcher, "The Bloody Brother", II, 2
To write a sonnet you must ruthlessly
strip down your words to naked, willing flesh.
Then bind them to a metaphor or three,
and take by force a satisfying mesh.
Arrange them to your will, each foot
🌽 -- 🐳 -- 🌋 -- 👳 -- 🐊 -- 🎈 -- 🔋 -- 🎽 -- 🚕 -- 👾 -- 🐝 -- 🐛 -- 💃 -- 💗 -- 🎄