Sonnets

Yesterday, my unconventional lit. teacher commanded each and every one of her unfortunate victims to write a sonnet. For amateurs, a sonnet is a poem with 14 lines each consisting of 10 syllables.
"Can I write about my dog?" pleaded a girl.
"Yes, you can. But NO FOOTBALL."
"You are butchering language noways," she declared, "with sms , I cannot even understand the terms you use. So-and-so, how do you sms Such-and-such?"
"I use correct English with him," my classmate protested.
"That's good. Only when you want a favour from me you use proper English. These people sent m,e a long sms in correct English asking for the themes in one of our topics. I replied N-O-P-E - very late reply." She smiled smugly. She proceeded ot deliver an educational harangue on how much more expressive writing proper letters and poetry is. I am afraid I have to agree with her here.
We learnt Elizabeth Barrett Browning's Sonnet#43:

Sonnet 43
by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love with a passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, -- I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! -- and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

Everyone thought it was excessively sentimental. Our teacher then made a few handpicked unfortunates recite the poem in Chinese-opera style, Hindi-song style, dikir-barat style ... sadly, no one knew how to perfrom the two latter ...