Lyrical poetry, just like the lyrics to our favorite songs, has rhythm. So, I’m constricting my rhythm to iambic pentameter today. I’m not working on my rhyme scheme, so I can concentrate on the rhythm. Limericks help me with a basic rhythm, and this helps me focus even more. By the end of April, I hope to put them all together.
Refresher: Iambic pentameter lines contains ten syllabus following the unstressed/stressed format or:
da DUM | da DUM | da DUM | da DUM | da DUM
I did not follow today’s NaPoWriMo prompt, which was a good one, but my mind is elsewhere.
I wondered down manicured paths alone, Where precision weaves illusion to meaning, Through rooms draped in leaves grown long with age. I thought of winsome and merry bliss Growing in abundance where mirth splashes rain And who should I see as I rounded the bend the old Bard himself taking a break What ho, old Bill, I said with smile No cup in the hand to toast to your works? I thought I would smart him; I thought I would call him. But as I leaned to whisper challenges, his mind opened to me. The paths are precise; the illusions built solid. In that restraint build words into worlds.