It's late for Sonnet 2088
These days I always seem to hesitate
And I leave writing them til round midnight
Because I'm busy, too much on my plate
And nowadays my diary has to wait
Cos often there will be more to relate
If I leave it til later, I can state
What happened not just in the day, but night
I might have stayed in or might have gone out
Instead of whisperings, I can now shout
I'm not so bitter now, I'm much more stout
And I can speak with more heft and more clout
Midnight approaches, the clock's hands now skate
Around the dial, and so I'll say goodnight
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