Sonnet Challenge: Sonnet #18.72

It isn't too late to enter your sonnet for the Sonnet Challenge of Doom! Write a Sonnet and put your name on it! Here is my First Sonnet:


The Dinner Tray, by William Frisenger

Shall I compare thee to a dinner's tray?
Thou art more handy and more comparted:
Rough hands do shake my spilling drinks this way,
And ice’s lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the pizza of mine is,
And oft' t’is it’s hot oil hath burned this han’d;
And every swear from swear never declines,
By chance or nature's painful curse unscream'd:
But thy infernal dinner’s pain not fade
Nor lose digestion of that food so cursed;
Nor shall Death brag thou standest in his shade,
When on eternal food lines thou waitest:

So long as men can dine, or sup early,
So long lives this, and too brings lunch to thee.