These rules of which you speak,
are to your heart so near...
although I could sure benefit,
Mine ears - they like to hear.
Such symmetry in structure,
though childish in it's guise...
mean more to me than textbooks,
or laws about these lines.
And someday when my eyes are closed,
Drawn forth like weary curtain,
There is one thing I'll not regret
One thing I'll know for certain:
Someone will look upon my work
in what is left of time...
They'll ask themself if they can live...
Forever in a rhyme?
But - you tell me which is easier,
to maintain in your mind...
A stuttered verse with "room to breathe"?
or eloquence so fine?
I'll let them out as they come forth
To stifle would be wrong,
To block the path of wordflow true
Could weaken what is strong.
But thank you for this guidance, friend
I pause to think - and stall
and wonder about my own trite style
On which deaf ears do fall!