Thoughts on a Craft

There's nothing wrong in writing Rhyme;

I seem to do it all the time.

Now if Iambic Pentameter your chosen thing;

Then trip along the Rhythm's Ring.

If Constricted Blank a desired fate;

Then feel the Cloth of Jacket Straight.

If Free Verse is the Horse you Ride;

No Fence or Hill you'll need abide.

To Sculp away in Concrete form;

A Style Unique the Eyes adorn.

With simple Ode by Mellow Air;

You Raise the one to which you care.

A Sonnet glows with fervent fire;

Where Embers Warm the Hearts desire.

The Acrostic guides the Eye along;

Where Peeks the Idol of the Song.

With Haiku take the Genie's lot;

And force him back through Bottle Top.

So Whatever Style you lay your Soul;

It's defley Spun when all is Told.