To a Friend who sent me some Records

As a workbook assignment, we had to parody a sonnet. Steph suggested that I post this in my blog, because she felt it was pretty good, so here is the real sonnet, written by John Keats, and the parody I wrote:

John Keats: “To a Friend who sent me some Roses”

 

As late I rambled in the happy fields,   

What time the sky-lark shakes the tremulous dew   

From his lush clover covert;—when anew

Adventurous knights take up their dinted shields:

I saw the sweetest flower wild nature yields,                                        

A fresh-blown musk-rose; ’twas the first that threw   

Its sweets upon the summer: graceful it grew

As is the wand that queen Titania wields.

And, as I feasted on its fragrancy,   

I thought the garden-rose it far excell’d:                                                  

But when, O Wells! thy roses came to me   

My sense with their deliciousness was spell’d:

Soft voices had they, that with tender plea   

Whisper’d of peace, and truth, and friendliness unquell’d.

 

Parody: “To a Friend who sent me some Records”

 

As late I rambled through the record fields,   

What time the punk kid shakes the tremulous dew   

From her patch’d denim jacket;—when anew

Adventurous knights take up their dinted shields:

I saw the sweetest vinyl wild thrashing yields,

A jet-black wax-disc; ’twas the first that threw   

Its sweets below the tone arm: graceful it grew

As is the wand that queen Titania wields.

And, as I feasted on its fragrancy,  

I thought the compact-disc it far excell’d:

But when, O Wells! thy records came to me   

My sense with their punk-rock thrash was spell’d:

Intense screams had they, that with tender plea   

Shouted of peace, and truth, and friendliness unquell’d.