A sonnet composed on a deserted, shady, bench opposite the sunlit Aston Webb building in the shade of Old Joe on a warm autumnal afternoon. Inspired by a morning of tedious English lectures on sonnets and varying sonnet forms.

Birmingham, the name itself inspires object

Feelings of tenderness and joy, aided

And commanded by beautiful prospect

The Midlands’ own Eden, never jaded.

Alone it stands, amongst vernal trees,

Piercing sunlight from academic climbs,

Singing clockwork rhythm and symphonies

Counting down, eternal, studious times

The bricks stained sanguine with the hue of age,

Guardians and remnants of bygone days

Have sheltered many, the wise and the sage

Steadfast and enduring my droning lays

So like Aston Webb’s heaven piercing dome

Shall we climb atop education’s throne?