Rhyme Lights, An Argument (in verse)

Name That Shakespeare Play!

Why is my brain producing so much poetry? It’s not deliberate, I promise!

 

 

Rhyme Lights, An Argument

It doesn’t take a whole lot of time
for the mind to produce a simple rhyme
The ones we’ve heard so often before
don’t really seem to require much more
brain power than something like petting a cat
or eating an orange, and I suspect that
is why simple rhymes don’t get that much credit
or take too much time to compose, or to edit.

And yet verse of compatible simplicity
is often accused of duplicity
or of feigning a true authenticity
if the syllables bear multiplicity
and hiding behind eccentricity
will not cease taunts of lyrical toxicity

Yet, if asked, I admit I suspect
that the rhymes themselves are not truly to blame
after all, Shakespeare’s verse is so often bedecked
with rhymes, yet the bloke is respected the same
and if you look closer I think you’ll detect
that doggerel tends to incite and inflame
because lack of images is its defect
verse laced with abstractions is tepid and tame
leaving rhyme’s reputation all tattered and wrecked
which I, for one, think is really a shame

Because verse that’s fermented, and aged like a spirit
can be sweet on the tongue to those with the taste
while those weaned on prose-milk will never go near it
as it must be sipped, and not gulped down in haste
and the careful addition of the nectar of rhyme
can honey the edges in the brew of pure verse
and awaken the palate, through tasting and time
of those who would otherwise never transverse
the barrier that separates poetry lovers
who drink in verse till they’re filled to the ears
from those who are scared and hide under their covers
whenever a sonnet or limerick nears

Images spin threads of verse into cloth
but there’s nothing like rhyme to turn words into song
they’re a beacon to emotion, like light to a moth
but folks still won’t read them if it all gets too long

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