To write verse free of verse defies all sense,
especially the sense of rhyme and meter;
so I arise and come to the defense
of lines with zip and dash that never peter
out, but set up expectations they fulfill
while subtly varying the pace and beat,
deciding when to run—and then stand still
and signalling clearly that a thought’s complete.
Then when a turn of thought is called for it
occurs at the expected spot and shows
a new perspective somehow meet and fit,
while signalling the verse now nears its close.
Or so it is with sonnets, whose strict rules
confound the skills of witless free verse fools.