Lunch with Mike...Sonnet One

Lunching with the lover of literature
and life at the same sunny table -
He, danish salmon.  Me, greek salad.
We, Shakespeare and James Joyce.
Our conversation turns
                 corners and gamuts.
We are beginning to traverse
a map of lunches.
When we will become real friends
on our journey is not known.
I do know, he's deeper, happier,
reads more than most discoursies,
and I'm on Sonnet Boulevard
due to his suggestion!
                     
     Sonnet Two...Seven Days Later

My friend with an interest in wit and form

asked for a sonnet, a luscious lemon souffle,

fresh from the oven, wafting and warm,

made from scratch, bliss of any gourmet.

I tried blank verse, listening to Shakespeare,

reading his sonnets, studying his plays.

Every poem I wrote, antipodal of air,

fell with a thud, the egged dud of my day.

If practice makes perfect, my mode is repeat,

to write a sonnet as grand as a souffle,

fragile, light, scrumptious, tangy and sweet.

I'll write sonnets till they rise every day.

Shakespeare, I love him, he's one of the three,

I would invite to dinner from history.