Prose And Poetry

While prose limits, posits, pretends, To narrow mundane meaning binds, Fails to touch heart’s deepest core, Frozen snow blocking freedom’s shore, Fails when to explore new crests, finds No rainbow shades, comes to dead ends, We know why caveman chose to sing Ere used speech communicating. Yet, today’s cut-and-dry world speaks— Prose to touch base, a mundane need, Poems to reach rarefied peaks, Oft failing still poorly indeed, Whilst imitating a dull prose, The rose forgets when it is rose. ________________________________________ This unusual sonnet is set in tetra metre. The octave is rhymed: abccbadd, and the sestet efefgg. ____________________________________________ - Sonnets | 05.09.12 |