I try to avoid picking nits, but it seems to me that neither prescribed nor vestige work well with the iambic foot as you’ve used them here.

The sonnet with her Mona Lisa smile
Broods on the world with other-worldly stare.
Priestess of melancholy, darkly fair,
Serene above our fury, guilt, and guile,
She, in her deeps, has learned to reconcile
Life’s contradictions. Really, I declare,
I’d gladly trust a sonnet anywhere,
That pure, seraphic sedentary. While

The limerick’s furtive and mean;
You must keep her in close quarantine,
Or she sneaks to the slums,
And promptly becomes
Disorderly, drunk, and obscene.

There may have been some poetry in me but very little ever came out. I do enjoy reading it and marvel that anyone can actually string such words together.

A poet that I really like and don’t hear much about these days is Robert Graves. He’s much better known for his prose, of course; he made it a condition of his contracts that a publisher who wanted his “popular works” had to also bring out a poetry volume.

Me, I like feet and rhymes.

One of the most complex forms is the Welsh cynghannedd, among other weighty forms:
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/articles/detail/70172

“Imagine that the most popular show on your NPR radio station was a poetry competition, with local teams fighting to win a national trophy. Each poet’s given a subject and a meter, then invited to leave for twenty minutes to compose his or her offering. In the interval, the judge entertains the packed hall with anecdotes about poetry and examples of the participants’ past work from memory. The emphasis is on enjoyment and the laughter is often raucous. This is a description of the most-listened-to show now on Radio Cymru, the BBC’s Welsh-language radio service. The meters in which the poets are expected to compete make a villanelle look like free verse. …
To writers who are familiar with the free verse tradition only, this degree of metrical complexity must appear bewildering. In order to qualify as a licensed bard in the fourteenth century, an apprentice had to show mastery of twenty-four such forms and undertake a nine-year qualification – quite a lengthy MFA. Once licensed, the bard traveled around the courts of the nobility and asked for patronage. Ordinary people wrote poems and songs as well, but the ability to handle the twenty-four meters with ease marked you out as educated and, therefore, one of the elite.”

This particular ancient form was analyzed and extolled in the book “Singing in Chains” by Merewid Hopwood

https://books.google.com/books/about/Singing_in_Chains.html?id=XZZiAAAAMAAJ
“The word cynghanedd means ‘harmony’ and it is the music of Welsh poetry throughout the ages that Mererid Hopwood celebrates in this accessible handbook. In it she explores the intricacy and beauty of the art, inviting the reader (or rather listener) to marvel at its clarity and complexity. Her explanation of the rules and conventions, followed by simple exercises, will also allow beginners to try their hand at this ancient yet thoroughly contemporary craft.”–BOOK JACKET.

My wife and I courted with poetry — starting with limericks and haiku, then onwards to double dactyls and triolets, then to sonnets, and even a sestina or two. We liked the sonnets, and made a tradition of writing each other sonnets every year for our anniversary. Every year we read each other’s sonnet, then carefully put them in an album… and read all that went before. We’ve been married twelve years; soon we’ll need a new album.

Anne Fadiman wrote a lovely essay about sonnets; it’s in her collection “Ex Libris”, which I highly recommend.

A Sonnet by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
On the Sonnet by John Keats
Nuns Fret Not at Their Convent’s Narrow Room by William Wordsworth
Scorn Not the Sonnet by William Wordsworth
A Sonnet upon Sonnets by Robert Burns
Imitated from the Spanish of Lopez de Vega by Thomas Edwards
Powers of the Sonnet by Ebenezer Elliott
Sonnet-writing by Frederick William Faber
The Sonnet by Richard Watson Gilder
To a Rejected Sonnet by William Ewart Gladstone
To Mr. Henry Cary, on the Publication of His Sonnets by Anna Seward
In the Welsh Manner by Edward Williams
The Sonnet by John Dovaston
What the Sonnet Is by Eugene Lee-Hamilton
An Enigma by Edgar Allan Poe
“Sonnets are full of love…” by Christina Rossetti
The Sonnet (III) by John Addington Symonds
The Sonnet’s Voice by Theodore Watts-Dunton
“A witless gallant, a young wench that wooed” by Michael Drayton
Anniversary by William Mason
That the True Structure of the Sonnet Should Be Observ’d by Authors of Genius Who Thus Entitle Their Poems by Capel Lofft
In Reply to the XXXII Sonnet (above) by Henry Kirke White
Sonnet by Edwin Arlington Robinson
Fascination by Kay Nanling Michaelson
The Sonnet by Edward Burrough Brownlow

Thank you…
but i often like Haiku

I kill an ant
and realize my three children
have been watching.
– Kato Shuson

As I began to love myself I found that anguish and emotional suffering are only warning signs that I was living against my own truth. Today, I know, this is “AUTHENTICITY”.

We no longer need to fear arguments, confrontations or any kind of problems with ourselves or others. Even stars collide, and out of their crashing new worlds are born. Today I know “THAT IS LIFE”!

Charlie Chaplin, written on his 70th birthday (April 16, 1959)

Go figure… i know so much stuff..
and its even more ephemeral than we are
and we are but dust
dust and candles in the wind
in a pointless universe
which will come undone
again
-artfldgr “on the fly who has no wall…”

🙂