Originally posted on my blog, Tales of Darkness, under my pen name, Elizabeth Anne Ives.
"Pull back," the moon directed, "you're too close for true perspective."
"But it's a poem in all but name," I declared! "Look at its edges, you can make out a form within the measures and meters it conforms!
Shameful attempts at rhyme, but that can be forgiven. Before the days of free verse rhyme was the form of the time.
Oh look! It meanders from prose to heroic verse, but honestly at times it feels rehearsed.
It has circular patterns, a cacophony of sounds, iambic lines, that go round and round!
This line is pithy and witty, worthy of an epigram. It has the prosody of a compelling poetry slam!
It's a work in progress. A poem in all but name. In need of further critique, but a poem all the same.
Man in the moon what have you to say?"
"My dear, a poem in all but name will never see the light of day."
a poet’s words,
like a mirror
they reflect the poet's
the notion of reflection,
often rejected by the poet
look closely, poet,
do you not see your
reflection staring back at you
scowl not, critic,
for you too are reflected
in your judgment