Away from my technology
I see the reality
In these
Bare trees
And fallen leaves.
The autumn rain
Will fall again.
Tag Archives: Rhyme
I Walked Alone
I walked alone
Through the graveyard.
Then, on reaching home
I pondered on lovers
And the dead.
The graveyard plot
Is cold,
Whilst love is hot.
Yet the dead
And lovers
Both have their bed,
Do they not?
Past Time
A rhyme
Captures a moment in time
Of joy or pain,
Which will never come again.
The poet may change
His original rhyme
But past time
He can not change.
Abstract Art
My friend, whose name is Miss Heart
Is well known for her abstract art.
Her cousin Lou
Lost a shoe.
Now it’s part of Miss Heart’s art
Feisty
A young man named Guy
Liked to make women cry.
But pretty Miss Pearl
Being a feisty girl,
Poked Guy in the eye!
“Progress”
I think on those who obsess
Over what they label “progress”.
And, on hearing the wind sing
In the venerable old tree,
I laugh, for all must pass.
Sincerity
When a young lady named Ria
Said, “sir, is your love sincere?”.
I said, “you are pretty
And I am quite witty.
But I’ve never been called sincere!”.
For The Love Of Poetry
Yesterday, I came across an article by Melik Kaylan entitled “For the Love of Poetry”, https://www.forbes.com/2009/04/06/memorize-poetry-education-opinions-columnists-thomas-hardy.html.
Kaylan offers a spirited defence of traditional (rhyming) poetry, and of the benefits flowing from memorising it.
I vividly recollect learning Alfred Noyes’s poem “The Highwayman as a child, and reciting it to an audience, https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/43187/the-highwayman. Noyes’s poem has a wonderful rhythm and I can still recall large chunks of “The Highwayman”.
I believe that being introduced to relatively simple (rhyming) poetry as a young boy kindled in me my love of the art. Had I been faced with free verse poetry at the same age, I am not sure that my love of poetry would have developed as it has.
There is (as I’ve said here before) much great free verse poetry. However my personal preference is for poetry that rhymes, or has some kind of meter to it. I also remain a traditionalist in that I agree with Kaylan as regards the benefits of memorising poetry.
As always, I would be interested in the views of my readers.
Kevin
Whilst Walking Through A Very Thick Mist
Whilst walking through a very thick mist
I met with my friend the anthologist.
He said “take a look
At this fine poetry book”.
But I couldn’t see through the mist!
On Glancing Under My Large Double Bed
On glancing under my large double bed
I found a young lady in red.
Her name it is Lou
And she’s mislaid a shoe.
So I’m helping Lou under my bed.