I've finally decided that since rhyme is much derided (as a tool that's too delirious for expression that is serious) that in fact I really ought to confine my written thought to the form that everyone knows is perfect for that: prose. Or, if I'm feeling terse, I might deign to write a verse, but I'll keep it free of rhyme by avoiding words that chime, in a certain charming form with a strict and ancient norm. Tell me, please, how like you the syllables of haiku?
Daffodils trumpet
March's roaring departure.
No April fools they.
1 comment:
I've finally decided
that since rhyme is much derided
(as a tool that's too delirious
for expression that is serious)
that in fact I really ought to
confine my written thought to
the form that everyone knows
is perfect for that: prose.
Or, if I'm feeling terse,
I might deign to write a verse,
but I'll keep it free of rhyme
by avoiding words that chime,
in a certain charming form
with a strict and ancient norm.
Tell me, please, how like you
the syllables of haiku?
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