Rhyming Poetry

This poem is one I wrote at least seven years ago, but I always liked its whimsicality.

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I’m horrible at writing rhyming poetry. 

I tried it once and failed, you see. 

I climbed many an eloquent tree 

To grab that elusive singsong soliloquy. 

Matching tails of verses evaded 

Yet my breath was always bated 

I pined and counted hours and waited 

For a muse–my writing to be aided. 

At last, long cloud-covered day ended 

My wordsmith spirit undefended 

A rhyme on paper was thus pended 

Until dawn, from sleep I was up-ended… 

And in the face of sun that shines, 

I found, written in my hand, these lines 

What grace from Euterpe this page divines 

Maybe I can rhyme sometimes. 

Psyche’s Lament

Great odes he sang her at the fall of night

Upon his form he bid her “do not look”

Torment at sisters’ hands ends love in fright

Too trusting of her will—Eros mistook

With Aphrodite’s game now revealed

Psyche’s apology Eros would not brook

Cast from his company, her fate sealed

Doomed ever to walk the earth alone

His love from her forever concealed