rhyme

Rhyme away, good poets!

This was written on the fly as a response to a blogger’s apology for rhyming a line in her poem. This sentiment has always troubled me, as I feel there is plenty of room in the poetic world for both structured and free verse, and frankly, I find the challenge of writing a rhyming piece to be thrilling and worthwhile. The doesn’t mean I think free verse is without merit – I read and love a lot of it. But, anyway, let my words rhyme and tell my tale…

Since when did it become a crime
To write a verse that dared to rhyme?
Sure, poet-snobs may toot and cough
And lift their noses when they scoff –
But let me ask these rhyming foes:
What of the Shakespeares? Byrons? Poes?
So many greats that worked in rhyme
And structured meter, beating time
With foots, with iambs, carefully wrought
As ‘gainst the wiles of language fought
To tell a tale that pleased to sing
Because they had a rhyming ring.
So if you rhyme, why take offense?
The classics are your best defense.

A villanelle…

I kissed her on her alabaster skin,
Where sun-sent bronze had never staked its claim,
And marveled at the joys I found therein.

She did as well, as evidenced in grin.
And as a blush spread quick throughout her frame,
I kissed her on her alabaster skin.

Her form, less hourglass, more violin,
I stroked, love’s melodies seeking to tame,
And marveled at the joys I found therein.

Though ne’er a great composer have I been,
When played on her, a symphony became;
I kissed her on her alabaster skin.

With every cobbled note I did begin,
An aria of lust from out her came,
I marveled at the joys I found therein.

And then the great crescendo of our sin,
She shuddered, and as dully grew her flame,
I kissed her on her alabaster skin,
And marveled at the joys I found therein.

(About this poetic form, from Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia: A villanelle (also known as villanesque)[1] is a nineteen-line poetic form consisting of five tercets followed by a quatrain. There are two refrains and two repeating rhymes, with the first and third line of the first tercet repeated alternately until the last stanza, which includes both repeated lines. The villanelle is an example of a fixed verse form. The word derives from Latin, then Italian, and is related to the initial subject of the form being the pastoral.The form started as a simple ballad-like song with no fixed form; this fixed quality would only come much later, from the poem “Villanelle (J’ay perdu ma Tourterelle)” (1606) by Jean Passerat. From this point, its evolution into the “fixed form” used in the present day is debated. Despite its French origins, the majority of villanelles have been written in English, a trend which began in the late nineteenth century. The villanelle has been noted as a form that frequently treats the subject of obsessions, and one which appeals to outsiders; its defining feature of repetition prevents it from having a conventional tone.)