karlevi runestone in courtly metre

Sometimes, as a poet, one must return

To the early forms studied as students

Meter and rhyme, now a time to relearn

That straight backbone of all those rudiments


What fun wandering among the free verse

Protesting confines of old school of thought

Poetry dancing in song so diverse

Ignoring the boring frame we were taught


Writing merely in free is not diverse

Similar poetry becomes dry rot

Grudgingly, I turn my head and reverse

Weaving carefully through the common knot


Perhaps I must commit to higher rhyme

Singing syllables to have a good time

© 2015 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja)



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