Sweet whispers./
A gentle touch./
Most women claim/
it’s 2 soon, 2 much./

But 2 she/
who dreams/
romantically/
it may seem/
2b/
much more.
It may b/
what she/
is looking 4.

Roses of red,/
violets of blue;/
blooms whose heads/
show ev’ry hue/
and sweet scent known,/
pale and wither/
when your beauty is shown/
and your fragrance delivered.

U/
who/
soars/
and serves/
smiles/
and miles/
daily,/
maybe/
U’ll find a guy/
who’ll make U sigh./
I/
try/
2b/
that he,/
2 bring/
U wings./
U don’t even sigh./
U write; I fly.

I’ve been writing conTEXTing poetry for several years, but this is the first time I’ve been able to create a ConTEXTing Sonnet, forcing the sonnet’s abab / cdcd/ efef /gg rules into the 160 character limit of my cell phone’s text message/SMS limits

Don’t ever/
not dance,/
lest U never/
get that chance./

Try 2 hear/
the Universe say/
don’t fear/
2 give smiles away./

Grasp/
a chance/
2 gasp/
in romance./

U wait?/
2 late.

It’s been a long time
since
you winced
but said yes
to going out.

I doubt
you’re used to
being picked up,
being asked what you thought,
being walked home when the evening’s through.

It might seem like forever since
you were asked to dance;
were romanced;
felt the bliss
of a first kiss;
just took a walk
to find time to talk;
had someone say
“You look pretty today.”

You’re not used to
being cooked for;
thinking “Bitte, more”;
having your door opened for you;
having your heart opened for you.

If you understood
how incredibly good
it is, I’ll bet
you could
get used to it.
You should.

You promised that you’d/
write, but you didn’t, so I/
most certainly won’t.

I would never deign/
to criticize another’s/
poetic efforts.

You were like a dream/
come true. Your silence turns my/
dreams into nightmares.

I though that I was/
unique, but she only thought/
that I was a freak.

You have mused me twice,/
and that is no vice. I just/
think that it is nice.