I’m Just Me

I’ve reached a point where I see rhyme
With meter neat, in perfect time,
And up my nose, it goes, I s’pose;
Eight beats in quatrain – over-chose?

And yet, in irony sublime,
The ladder’s here, so up I climb.
How sweet the scent, with rose still rose?
The poet hopes the reader knows.

No, that’s not true; I’m in my prime;
To weight a reader’s thoughts – a crime.
I write alone, in verse or prose;
Enjoy it, if you predispose.

So there it is, in eights and fours;
Now broken rhyme scheme, zut alors!
Count syllables when rules there be,
But when unfettered,
I’m Just Me.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s