English Sonnet

A fool may soon be parted from his money,
an idiom that doubles as a rule,
a reason to remember: fools are funny --
and truly, what's more funny than a fool?
How sad their fate of ridicule and laughter,
a sadder one is difficult to have,
unlikely to be told before or after,
and sadder still the fools that are in love.
But yet we must continue, sentimental,
yes, we, the fools that love despite it all.
Our need is existential, elemental,
a fool is not a fool without a fall.
The easy way to tell a fool apart?
Look for the one that has an open heart.

Author notes: Prompt #2. English Sonnet

I once had the misfortune to attack
(for as they say, in ignorance, there's bliss)
none other than Messier de Bergerac
and all over a trifle -- just a kiss.

Oh, had I known the gentleman's sharp tongue,
I surely would have been more circumspect;
but as it was, equating me to dung
was merely the beginning, I expect.

What does one do, when abject ridicule
gets punished with an equitable turn?
When seeking to paint someone else a fool
gets paid back, and in kind? When will I learn?

Full of contrition, I shall thus compose
the story of one beaten, by a nose.

Author notes: Image from Amazon English sonnet with French themes