Sonnet: On The Evolution Of A Language

Nothing we do now like in yester-year's;
Nothing those days looked like we do today;
Just like a motor has its many gears,
In many ways, we try to write and say.

Convention shouldn't encroach on convenience;
By traditions, rules are for readers’ sake;
Nevertheless, one can't show lenience;
There is a way to cook; a way to bake.

But things do change for good or worse with time;
The fashions of the day dictate the rules;
But they must suit the changes in the clime;
Yet, mules aren't horses; Neither Horses mules!
What we accept today, the morrow won’t;
The old returns whether we like or don't.

poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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