Poets’ Ponderings

To rhyme,

All the time,

...I suppose, that it’s fine.

But the prose,

I suppose,

Might decline,

Like fine wine.

For to meter your rhyme,

On each separate line,

May cause those sublime,

Reason to whine!

Perhaps alliterations,

If spread throughout the nations,

Should sour some synonyms,

Have humbled hard homonyms,

Tis' better to Meter,

Your steps as you climb,

To mountain top divine,

The clear view from the top,

Such a dangerous drop!

Then to sink in despair,

Where great heights cannot share,

To touch so lofty a goal,

Singing out to each soul!

Which some cannot hear,

Whose sweet sounds still so clear,

Which strikes a true chord,

We can all ill afford,

But if only we listen,

Still, a tear might just glisten,

Here, in each eye,

Yet, I’ve no reason to cry,

Only pause once, …then sigh,

For the sigh which I rend,

Gives me reason to send,

A wish for you,

Gentle reader,

A most kindly end!

(c) BAM