Royal Flush Cyhydedd Fer Sonnet
Skipping a step brings an impasse,
you must have passed a master class.
Much more tricky than it appears,
fail at it and you’re brought to tears.
That’s what makes it so appealing
to hear the quatrains you’re dealing.
Picked like you hold a royal flush,
each sonnet is making me blush.
That rich taste of your dialect
it’s like this hidden box is checked.
Touching each hand in the same spot,
each previous thought? I forgot.
Captured by cadence my soul climbs.
Please, simply talk to me in rhymes.
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