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: Pandora's Beauty Box
Yesterday, I went sailing on my Uncle’s 40 ft boat. Evidently, many other people had the same idea and were parked on the bay side with their flags displayed. As we approached the Gulf Side of Shell Island, a rainbow appeared. It was truly magical- A promise of remembrance of those who paid the ultimate […]
Along Crawfordville highway in between Panacea and Tallahassee is a Ford Car Graveyard. Twenty + cars dated from early 1900’s to mid are arranged in a semicircle from oldest to youngest. My girls and I stopped here coming back from the beach in Panacea. Evidently, all these cars were used on Pat Harvey’s family farm. […]
Florida County Hwy 65 runs from the interstate south through Hosford, FL through Apalachicola National Forest and dead ends on Hwy 98 on the coast in Carrabelle. It’s 54.7 miles from Hosford to Carabelle. While driving down this highway, there are no cities, there are no dollar stores or gas stations or any other […]
As promised, here are the wildflowers I encountered while driving on FL Hwy 65 towards Sumatra in the Apalachicola National Forest. I included the common and scientific name in the caption (for all that I could identify). You are welcome to share any of the pictures or use them as backgrounds. Tomorrow, I’ll post the […]
I hope everyone had a happy International Astronomy Day! Friday night, I finished photographing wildflowers and that photogenic water moccasin around sunset. As I prepared to drive back home, fireflies started to flash their lights in the hundreds (thousands?) . I stayed about another hour and captured them along with the stars. Earth/Sky website featured […]
: Hands Across The Aisle
My Pledge to use my Voice.
My America, the Eagle Distressed To even contemplate that we, as a nation, are akin to an Eagle— one with the Freedom of the skies– to have the time, the Liberty, to speak about this noble bird in any manner with total impunity, without fear of mortal retribution or imprisonment, is absolutely the epitome of […]
Tag Archives: rhyme scheme
In the mode of T.S. Eliot’s “The Wasteland,” I am writing my own epic poem. To do this I created my own meter and rhyme scheme:
For now it is titled, “alpha,” and it is very much a work in progress. I only have 2 six quatres completed. Ha, at this rate it will be a life time’s work. I not even sure I classify it as “worth fixin.”
Anyway, I often use just the first part, or the “six cube” as a type of sonnet. Here is an example:
Enter in my own world
where man does not exist;
Enter in my own land
where goodness doesn’t resist.
Ye, by my very hand,
a tale I will unfold:
A tale of future time
heard only in the hearts
of the future people.
Yet, every story starts
with a simple staple
in the creator’s mind.
This truth comes together
right now- in the present;
For in the now, the past
echoes a small descent
in future; it is last
and first, but neither.
Only with the present
can the future be formed.
But this future lacks man,
yet it is not forlorn;
Although there be a ban
no person can resent
A fair future story.
Instead of man roaming
throughout the whole wide Earth,
Familiar wind is moaning
about a better birth
into golden glory:
A beautiful creature
all wrapped in mystery,
empowered by heaven
now part of history.
Yet, this is engraven
in another feature.
I love to read and write sonnets. Some think that the sonnet’s structure is too confining; I think it is liberating. It is like a puzzle: If put together in such a way, the effect is breathtaking.
There are three main types of sonnets: Shakespearean (English), Italian, and Spencerian. All of them are comprised of 14 lines and use descriptive language and imagery to illuminate contrasting ideas; basically a fancy metaphor. Modern authors often look past the meter, or the rhythm part of a sonnet. Sonnets were originally written in iambic pentameter- or 5 pairs of unstressed/stressed syllables. Example:
Most writers (including myself at times) stick to merely ten syllables per line. Modern language makes it extremely difficult to be true to form.
The main difference between the three types of sonnets is their end rhyme scheme. (from http://www.sonnets.org/basicforms.htm)
The Spencerian sonnet is one of my favorite; I love the Faerie Queen.
a b a b b c b c c d c d e e
The English (Shakespereian) is similar in that it also has a couplet at the end, but doesn’t repeat the rhyme scheme past the stanza or quartet. I think this is the easiest one to do.
a b a b
c d c d
e f e f
The Italian sonnet on the other hand, has an octave and sestet and should never have a couplet at the end.
a b b a a b b a
Sestet could be one of the following:
c d c d c d
c d d c d c
c d e c d e
c d e c e d
c d c e d c
I am sure that there are many other forms. I have even created my own.
Anyway, this is an example of an Elizabethan sonnet I wrote :
Lyke as/ a hus/bandman/ growing/ weary/
plowing/ his field/ day af/ter day/ forlorn/;
when har/vest tyme/ arrives/ dark and/ dreary/,
he finds/ not gold/en grain/ but vy/l thorn/.
So I/ whose love/ doth fall/ on bry/rie earth/
my seed/ doth sow/eth in/ shallow/ soyl/
swallowed/ by the/ endless/ pursuit/ of myrth/,
and re/ceiveth/ naught to/ show for/ toyl/.
Yet, hope/ I well/ the this/tle will/ soon die/
til then/ I tend/ to the/ thick thorn/y field/
dreaming/ of a/ fruitful/ time not/ yet nigh/
when the/ barren/ land more/ than thorns/ will yield/
Forsooth/, my heart/ now my/ love has/ ysnare/-
Jove sees/ the dan/ger, but/ ne’er sayes/, “Beware.”/
Again, it did not stick to iambs. I have attempted many revisions and could never get the right words to conform. Here is another more modern sonnet:
My masterpiece has yet to be written
In detail its heart fails to be formed.
But still my spirit is ever smitten
with the perfect gentleman of a poem.
Be wary oh my dear love-stricken soul!
Today, your love might come a-calling.
Forget not oh my heart, be not full of woe.
Smile when he approaches, or it will be your failing.
Yes, he will come; he comes soon; he comes when?
Oh, I long for him to be at my side!
From dusk to dawn; from midnight to noon,
I desire my masterpiece to be my pride.
Yet the words come not, yet the words come not.
Ever I wait, he will not be forgot.
I guess my challenge for myself now is to write a true to form sonnet, complete with the proper meter and rhyme scheme.