I’m sorry Niamh. I am not well acquainted with both the Petrarchan (never even heard of it) or Shakespearian styles but I will try my best to write a poem which conveys a similar style (in rhyme, stanza length and syllables) to the one you have quoted. (I think your quoted poem sounds lovely
)
Black Streets Stalk Peter
In the celerity of sunset’s death,
Young Adam flips stones ‘till the pit-pit-patter,
echos beyond stillness of moonlight’s breath,
and makes the milky, white dots supremely fatter.
Young Ike wants wings to transcend the moon
But dreams don’t grow on blackened roots for flight.
His low muttering provides somber tune
as shiftless feet glide mossy stones of night
Peter’s clamor breaks the liquified calms,
as improvisational crows chase his feet.
The sleepers are too tired to have qualms,
so High Pitch River floods the street.
He turns lanes, hits a pole, streaking scarlet
It might've been worse if he had struck a harlot