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)
IMAGE: KARLEVI RUNESTONE IN “COURTLY METRE”