The Telephone: A Sonnet
Whenever the telephone does ring, My heart always skips a beat, I do not know with what news I will meet, Will I cry or will I sing? With such doubts in my mind, I unwillingly creep up to it, At once I wish I could peacefully sit, For sad news I always hate to find. But my mind then gets filled with a thought, If I cannot face a mere telephone, I am the cowardest person ever known, Deciding its better to be brave than not, A new inspiration gets filled within me, And thus I answer the call with much glee.