What's In A Poem?

Each word's a chord, A tone, a colour, Juxtaposing images and sounds In harmonising order, Assonance the flats to mollify the song Alliteration sharps, The plangent plucking of a harp, Half rhyme I use To vary the length and pitch of lines, And introduce a complex contrapuntal strength. As one creating landscapes Uses tones and focal points To give perspective to the whole. The soul is in the metre, Echoing below as some elusive rhyme, The constant footfall Of the Alexandrine. Subtle variations are allowed, But still its shadow must remain, Governing the flow of each refrain, To counterpoint again. Or do we write just as we feel, Our instinct using patterns Once instilled by memories And habit, in ignorance Of analysing and retrospective theories! Perhaps the great G Minor Fugue, Or Eliot's lyrics, Or the prosody of French verse lurk Within my mind's Subliminal self and do the work! What puzzles me is how the songs begin Not how they end Or the subtle tricks played In between created Like movements in a dance. Remote control, I'm told, Precedes each thought, So perhaps we ought not claim The credit or take the blame!