A song sang of sonnets mixed
The ticking clock pulls past
All the things, taught new- to last
Though words oft fell betwixt
And bound, or culled
Or brought by flame
But some to hear refrains
Sits the chorus- partway lulled
Though me, not with disdain
Oh, cruel time!
The noonday hour
The cost the hear these rhymes
Old knowledge- that makes power
And to craft? Far worse!
A taxing game
One's head feels though to burst
So, I end- smiled, and sane.
(But wish for a longer verse)
Notes: This assignment was
significantly harder than I thought it would be. The rules imposed by
sonnets (which I broke- twice- just to make it sound better)
definitely make the rhyme scheme challenging.
I hope my bending of the rules can be
forgiven. It almost creates an interesting effect- the brand new
student, clumsily aping along his best facsimile of the masters'
style.
I had fun with this. I am used to
poetry that is completely free flowing and without rules (and often
without rhymes). It added a new challenge to try to make it fit into
a certain style or “shape” of rhyming.
