‘Is it-conta-gious? No-one-real-ly knows’: The Shakespearean Sonnet

In this class we focused on the Shakespearean Sonnet and iambic pentameter.  In his Sonnet #127, William Shakespeare muses on beauty and its perception as a  ‘currency’ in the modern world: ‘In the old age, black was not counted fair.”  Students took some time to experiment with iambic pentameter and rhyme scheme.  Below are some examples.

Lesson Note: Again, a strict form such as the Shakespearean Sonnet, might actually allow for creativity rather than hinder it. Similar to the Emily Dickenson lesson, the rules of this form help craft the work into ‘a made thing.’


Ms. Taylor, 8th Grade
1st Period

Alex S.

I hate the band that plays the ugly song
For they remind me that I am alone
Even though my ‘friends’ say that I’m wrong
The song makes me feel like I’m never home.

Even though my family cares ’bout me
But at school, my ‘friends’ make me feel lonely.

Gabi M.

I love to come home to see my jumping dog.
His kind face makes a bad day go away.
When he jumps at me he seems like a frog.
I always know he waits behind the door way.

He is always begging for more fun toys.
I always know he is such a good boy.

Hanna K.

I hate going to school badly.
It makes me stressed and scared-Help me!
But nothing can be done, very sadly.
I have to go to school…let me drink tea.

And when school finally comes to an end.
I’ll be waiting for school to start again.

Ms. Taylor, 8th Grade
2nd Period

Eleanor L.

The snow is falling down my house is warm.
Inside the warmth is nice, cozy and love
Fills the home in which I live. Snow swarms
Journey outside I say as I wear gloves.

Winter is nice but Spring is much better
Without all the cold and snowy weather.

Home Alone
Efstathia G.

The fear I feel when I am home alone.
It kills me in the inside all the time.
Always hanging onto my dear cell phone.
Eyes, ears wide open ready for signs of crime.

That fear that someone will come in and kill-
It gives me that ungrateful spinney chill.

Adele R.

The snow is falling outside the school.
The small white flakes fall down upon the ground.
The crystalized snow looks like diamond jewels.
The crunch of snow makes a soft quiet sound.

The brisk wind sends a shiver down my spine.
Every flake of snow is one of a kind.

Nick S.

Forsooth ye fools for I have just been cursed
O’re the night, slang terms have slipped away.
My linguistic skills are now at their worse.
The olde contagion struck at break of day.

Now forced to speak in Shakespearean prose,
It is contagious? No one really knows.

Ms. Taylor, 8th Period
3rd Period

Javier R.

So cold the snow so white a night has past.
In dark fluff falls in dawn of light it set.
So soft the trees dusted in snow at last.
The sun will rise to melt the rest to fret.

The snow is gone to water will be gone soon.
Then night will come with old breaths the snow going.

Daniel C.

The grass is buried deep under the snow.
It covers all the land with its color.
So now the plaints have nothing left to show.

I know that it will some day malt away.
But sadly that will come another day.

Sofia C.

How can something be soft yet cold and bright
So inviting but dangerously biting.
A warm pillow fragile to touch with light.
Though it is hard to resist the bed fighting.

The thin white vale misleading to somewhere.
Sparkling reflective with might and tears.

and then the people have to take cover.

Ms. Taylor, 8th Grade
6th Period

Rubick’s Cube
Samantha B.

Confused, Angry, Upset and resentment Mad.
White Red Yellow Orange and Blue too.
After you gave me some skills to add–

Karolina B.

Love is like a plant ready to grow- to shine.
Love is hard but you will know when it’s right.
Its funny how love works it all works fine.
It might be hard but it is work the fight.

How’ever don’t not let it tear you apart.
If anything– you always have a Pop Tart.

Ms. Taylor, 8th Grade
7th Period

Kevin F.

I go through class all day and every day.
The classes drag by ever so slowly.
I wish school was out- but not today.
I can’t go home, so I fall so slowly.

Josh E.

It hurts my head when every I cough.
I woke up with a fever yesterday.
I wish i could just turn my sickness off.
I had to sit inside my bed and lay.

I woke up and felt extremely dizzy.
I drank Root Beer, it was very fizzy.




“Writing poetry makes me feel like I can see myself, like I can see my reflection, but not in a mirror, in the world. I write and I know I can be reflected.”
-Oscar S.

“Writing poetry makes me feel free.”
-Buenda D.

“Writing poetry is like your best friend.”
-Jessica M.