How's a man to write a sonnet, can you tell,-- <br />How's he going to weave the dim, poetic spell,-- <br />When a-toddling on the floor <br />Is the muse he must adore, <br />And this muse he loves, not wisely, but too well? <br /> <br />Now, to write a sonnet, every one allows, <br />One must always be as quiet as a mouse; <br />But to write one seems to me <br />Quite superfluous to be, <br />When you 've got a little sonnet in the house. <br /> <br />Just a dainty little poem, true and fine, <br />That is full of love and life in every line, <br />Earnest, delicate, and sweet, <br />Altogether so complete <br />That I wonder what's the use of writing mine.<br /><br />Paul Laurence Dunbar<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-poet-and-the-baby/
