The age old art of writing rhyme
a poet’s fond endeavour,
can take unconscionable time
the age old art of writing rhyme;
he seeks perfection with each line
though he achieve it never,
the age old art of writing rhyme,
a poet’s fond endeavour.
I couldn't resist posting this ready made triolet when I saw that Grace had chosen the form for her Imaginary Garden post, and inspiration for a new one was lacking today - although I may add another later, if the muse strikes. Stranger things have happened...
And here is mark two, already. The muse must have been listening...
If words decide they must be heard
all poets have to pay them heed;
we know writing can't be deferred,
if words decide they must be heard.
They sing as sweet as any bird
rejoicing, as from cage it's freed...
If words decide they must be heard
all poets have to pay them heed.
Oh, I love these two 'poetic' triolets - such a joy for writers to read.
ReplyDeleteBoth are very well fashioned, even if the form of the triolet is these days rather out of fashion.
ReplyDeleteI love it when someone writes for the writers. Your muse was awake for these two beauties.
ReplyDeleteI like them both. I too find it rather trying to write to form - only a master can make words sing while at the same time constraining them in some fashion. You have shown that it can be done, however... :)
ReplyDeleteBoth are great. I like words as birds singing to be free...
ReplyDeleteVery thought provoking. I loved it!
ReplyDeleteyes! heed the word, poet!
ReplyDeleteBoth lovely in their own right. always heed the word.
ReplyDeleteLovely...and well crafted! Nicely done.
ReplyDeleteI agree, these are so joyful and clever~
ReplyDeleteJinksy, you have written two after my own heart.
ReplyDeletePurrfect.