Right Ho.

[woe-in-a-hoodie.livejournal.com]

Here, answering my own challenge - and I do think this will end up being part of a series, as well - is a slashiful ickle Bertie sonnet.
(Hopefully, I pronounce joie de vivre correctly in my head - I've never actually heard someone say the phrase aloud - because otherwise, the bally thing doesn't scan.)

Right Ho

I sometimes wish I were some other blighter
Labouring under other sorts of blight
But when you quirk a brow, pass me my lighter
I see, in fine, everything's all right.
They're trying, often times, I know – my antics;
But you inspire all smiles and joie de vivre
I must admit, your presence makes me frantic:
You seem to strike me with some sort of fever.
The way you glance at me, it drives me loony;
At tender ministrations from your hands
I find the Wooster self distinctly swoony,
And I'm in no posish to make demands.
You take me places others dare not go
I give up all control, and shrug. 'Right ho.'

Comments

[woe-in-a-hoodie.livejournal.com]

*squees* Fankee!

[the-maenad.livejournal.com]

Yes. Yes, yes, yes.

[msliz4857.livejournal.com]

Wow...absolutely wonderful! Thanks for sharing it!

[carpecarpem.livejournal.com]

This is lovely! It makes me happy when people voluntarily write poetry in some kind of form, especially iambic pentameter. None of this new-fangled free verse hogwash. ; ) Plus the Bertie voice is spot-on. If he were to wax poetic, which he very well might.

If you're concerned about the rhyming, fever is an acceptable rhyme for vivre - the syllables are accented the same, although vivre is more like VEEV-ruh with the last syllable pronounced very subtly.