What is it sonnet

What is it sonnet that you and I have, why so close,
is it due to our early embrace, spoiled me for other forms,
you are my saviour, my medication, but what heavy dose,
now I try to transcend you and write with sweating palms;

anything new takes time but slowly our skills bloom,
but I don’t linger anywhere that I can hope to master,
my ever so wavering, fleeting mind shall be my doom,
at times like these I return to you and my dreams foster;

you my first love but unlike with women I am allowed more,
I grapple with a limerick, haiku or the occasional Villanesque,
if only with you alone, I remain, but my primal lust comes afore, 
you conquer my dreams too, even when I am not in my desk;

knowing full well with confidence that you will be there for me
I embark on the treacherous seas of novel forms with glee. 

Early on in my life

Early on in my life I got in to the habit of mindless rhyming

the wheels in my mind accustomed to its chiming,

with no lofty matter dwelled or sweet musical meter,

can’t capture the subtle nuances ever so sweeter,

yet hope you’ll relish the thoughtful punches in my scribbling.