In late hour beneath lamp light
with pen of clay I try to write
on a pure and empty page
in the style ignored in this late age.
For here in this free verse time
I mostly write my verse in rhyme
the form of Poe and Burns and Frost
which seems at times is almost lost.
In a life approaching its December
it's rhyming writes that I remember
from far back in my days of youth
the old ones who appear time proof.
Sometimes I feel the Raven perch
as I write lines that swerve and lurch,
black critic peering past my shoulder
like a fellow poet just much older.
By using rhyme I guess that I
take the road less traveled by
and dream of walking in the wood
where that old white haired writer stood.
Or sit beneath a chestnut's shade
where horse shoes were by smithy made
back when things were made to last
and life did not move quite so fast.
Perhaps in a distant future day
poets again will write this way
not for fame or even treasure
but for the sake of simple pleasure.
Reciting, once more, tales in rhyme
much as in the olden time
with a steady measured beat
with clap of hand or stamp of feet.
I'll never reach their lofty height
too many of my words aren't right.
Among that crowd I'll not be tossed
but still I write, ignoring cost.
And yet tonight I'll strain and strive
to keep this old time form alive.
Who knows there just may come a day
when one stranger might just say " I remember Holliday. "
Comments
too many of my words aren't right
I guess that's being true to self eh? lol. I appreciate the input on this very rough draft and will consider all of it when I edit tomorrow. Thanks for the read and ideas...................scribbler
Hey Stan,
I will remember "holiday', but more importantly I will always remember your style of writing. rhyming is never easy, but you seem to have a way with it. yes nothing last any more, for it is not about quality , it's about money. How sad.
Enjoyed the write very much!
E. C.
flow
thank you for reading and leaving such a generous comment................Stan Holliday
flow
Grandchildren??? Did not know you even had children lol. I am always glad when a write of mine is enjoyed by another writer................stan
hi Rosi
I can't remember who it was that told me the best free verse also has a rhythmic flow about it, but since then I've found this to be true.You know I dip into free verse on occasion and yet for me rhyme is what I always come back to....................stan PS hope you had good birthday
I'll always remember Stan the
I'll always remember Stan the Man Holliday, but forgive me, when contemporary rhyming poets ascend to the level of Frost and others, I will then give credit where credit is due.
If one reads a Frost, one has read immortality in the magnificence of words put into unassuming rhyme.... the rhyme is hardly discernible.
That's the epitome of rhyme.
Read how it is written when spoken, to see what I mean.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3esjTgR2W2E
~A
hello
What bothers me is my fear that there IS another Frost out there but he or she is buried under the preponderance of free verse and undiscovered due to what I've been told is editors' dislike of rhyme.....................stan
Never! A Frost can not help
Never! A Frost can not help her/himself but be *known*.
Every editor worth is weight in salt, would recognize another Frost... in this age of internet,
there are many who editors who do not only subscribe to free verse. You have to find one,
or they'll find you.
The trouble is most free verse, strains ineffectively to rhyme or is without depth or metaphors.
http://www.bewilderingstories.com/issue419/lovelorn_poet.html
~A
In my opinion, this is your
In my opinion, this is your very best, Stan. And if I remember you, (if you enter that land where all poets, rhyming or otherwise enter, first) I'll keep this one tucked in my heart.
~A
anna
I know how sparingly you use "best" and thus am a bit flabberghasted by this. Thank you.............stan
If you care to
If You Care To
Count the number of poets here,
You will be left with surplus fingers,
My Scribbler dear,
No one writes poetry these days,
Very much lesser read it ,
I guess,
But the old bard’s style I try to relive,
Even me they all by the dozens
Desire to kill,
That’s God’s will,
Change with time wills ye,
Never shall you suffer
From home made misery
hi loved
I have heard none here threatening either of us(yet) lol. You know, what lead me to pick up my pen after a 30 yr. skip was hearing the excuse of a poem read at Obama's inauguration. Upon being subjected to that, I determined that even such as I could elevate the level of poetry if that was the best contemporary poetry had to offer.Since coming here I have been relieved to discover many who put that pompass "laureate " to shame. End of rant lol. Thanks for coming by and commenting and being yourself.................scribbler