I was assigned to write a sonnet following the strict rules of sonnets such as 10 syllables per line in Iambic pentameter etc. Of course I chose to write about archery. Here is the result of my efforts.
Arrows Journey
A stick and string pulled tense in fingers grip.
The grain of yew is arcing tight in hand.
Reluctant anchor temporized let slip.
Then archer’s paradox will force its bend.
Diverted meditation steals my might.
In range, my quarry flinches anxious ear.
What errant arrow streaking leaves my sight?
A stalwart beast is turning, sensing fear.
The flag of death! A gushing plume of red!
My heart surprised, and pounding hard inside.
Escape has failed! My quarry waits ahead.
I genuflect to God, my prayers confide.
With stick and string I fumble, quarry still.
The Lord has guided arrow swift to kill.