RHYME AND METER
Each day I jog along this rhythmic road,
For formal poetry is my mind’s mode
To access what I didn’t know I knew
And happening on some unexpected view.
The pleasure of discovery is what prompts
These early morning rhyme and meter romps
In hopes that on the way I’ll meet the Muse
Who’ll give me sonorous clues that I may use.
Those free-verse poets who abandon this
Supposed constraint don’t know how much they miss,
For their minds are left idly adrift,
While formalists can always catch a lift.
Riding the current of iambic lines,
I’m freed from all predictable confines.