Though I love poetry, it is not my area of expertise, at least as of now. I crave any feedback you may have about this one Italian Sonnet of mine. Iambic pentameter and all that jazz baffles me, so please tell me if this is even close to correct?? I hope you don't hate it as much as I do...
To me, this small house is a second home.
Many years of my childhood were spent here.
A hug from my Grandma and I have no fear.
My love runs deep, so I'm writing this poem.
My long hair down, she will lovingly comb.
In this happier world, no need for tears.
For dinner, delicious meat she will sear.
Sponge cake so fluffy, it tastes like sweet foam.
Beautiful flowers in the garden grow.
Everything she owns smells oh-so sweet.
Letters with friendly greetings I still save.
I'm sure to leave Grandma's house with a treat.
Reminiscing over, it's time to go.
I need to pick the flowers for her grave.
Oh, by the way, my grandmother isn't actually dead... I just needed a twist...
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