She thought that it would cramp her style
to write in such a way
– to think in quatrains all the while
would surely spoil her day?
‘Free-flowing stuff’, she’s heard to sigh,
‘would be a waste of time’,
to meet the brief she’d have to try
to get her ode to rhyme.
She finds that it is not much fun
to wrack her puny brain
when counting iambs one by one
to make up each quatrain.
She’s got more guts than she’s aware,
nothing’s gonna beat her,
she knows that judgment will be fair
– it’s just a case of meter …..
quatrain – a stanza of four lines, especially one having alternate rhymes
iamb – a metrical foot consisting of one short (or unstressed) syllable followed by one long (or stressed) syllable
When casting off we have no fears,
with youth and strength well fortified,
inside we’re older than our years
with dreams as yet to be denied.
Flags flying we set sail at speed,
horizons beckon far ahead,
of compasses we have no need,
forgetting all our parents said.
Foul winds may blow us far off course,
yet breasting powerful waves with zest,
no time to stop or feel remorse,
we tell ourselves it’s for the best.
We hit the doldrums now and then,
time hanging heavy on our hands.
Such stagnant doleful days are when
we feel no other understands.
But then a fresh new breeze will start,
and ease us forward carefully,
as gladly we again take heart,
and launch ourselves against life’s sea.
Yet over time strength fades away
until at last there is no more
and inwardly we spend our days
just drifting to that unknown shore.
the girl in the mirror stands high on tip-toe
she arches her back as she’s tying the bow
at the back of the dress, then starts doing a twirl
turning this way and that, the skirts billow and swirl
such a beautiful dress, it belonged to her mother
so carefully kept and loved as no other
the girl closes her eyes and imagines the dance
in the arms of a lover, the start of romance
moving daintily now as she hums out the tune
she goes twirling and swirling around the bedroom
nobody to watch yet she waltzes with grace
and just for a moment she’s there in her place
weak for the sight of you
my heart just aches with tears
whatever I may do
all surely sense my fears
such sorrow knows no friend
but slowly hours will pass
’til day comes to an end
and I’m alone at last
to read some book at length
to search for what I need
to cheer and give me strength
so I no longer bleed