A Labor of Love

I've made some other changes, so I guess this is final (maybe).

To One Tired of the Tiring

"Mannered and obsolete," I can hear them moan,
Smirking over words forming ocean's rove
In stale modernist theories that reprove
Any effort past bland themes they condone.
Are there words with secret lives of their own,
Huddled, shrinking from a meek dread of love,
In a cold, dripping cave, who cannot move
Beyond the clapping hand of Elite's koan?
Pure faith in the sweet pull of longing's ache
Reveals the lore each limbed harp holds within
Her sweet cascade of lissome summer's chime.
There, I'd give more than I could dream to take,
In soft dalliance with firm rules' ken:
Pulsing Nature's touch pours out rhyme and time.

by William Mark Gabriel

I'll admit "moan" and "koan" remain a pretty broad slant, but it's the best I could do. You may also notice how, when you're just going through the normal process of revising, you can actually sharpen the poem's meaning by choosing a better rhyme word. I think I managed that in a couple of cases.

I posted on this last year (I think I called the post "Rhymes in Time" -- oddly fitting the last post. It wasn't deliberate.). Choosing rhymes and other formal aspects of verse are just parts of the writing process.

Yes, they are tougher to do than, say, fixing a comma splice in a sentence -- but that's what makes you a poet, right?

We enjoy the challenge, or we wouldn't be doing it in the first place.

Next time, I'll have some ideas on how to "watermark" a poem.