To begin, something completely silly.
Sonnet of Oatmeal
Our love, my dear, brings oatmeal to my mind,
A dish that takes some heat and skill to cook.
And while, at first, appeal's not hard to find,
Time flies, and it deserves no second look.
Our love lacks cream to make it rich and sweet,
No spice to truly make the flavor last.
And while, it's true, it's possible to eat,
In choosing it we may have been too fast.
While healthy, I admit, oatmeal is dull.
Its warm, nutritious nature has no flair.
At first, my passion's lack was just a lull,
But now it's gone - and yet I still do care.
So you, my dear, all thick and gray and warm,
Still have my love - though peaceful, not a storm.