Not many people write sonnets any more and even less write them well.  At the blog Andy Maudling Writes you will get exactly that, great writing.

Here is a little taste:

In Line Sunday Sonnet

We evolve to understand ourselves,
To know we know much less.
Like books, we sit in line on shelves;
Each spine becomes a mess.

We wait our lives to wait in line,
To never meet the end.
We reach a final turn in fine,
Straight lines without a bend.

In line to face to final call,
And I am on the edge.
If looks could kill, I’d kill them all,
From high up on this ledge.

When will it be my turn to speak,
All of the dreams that I do seek.

Do check out the rest of the blog.  You wont be disappointed.