Living In the Middle
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The glosa is often used to praise another poet, or to expand on an idea or theme of the original poet. The glosa is an early Renaissance form that was developed by poets of the Spanish court. In a glosa, tribute is paid to another poet. The opening quatrain is actually written by that other poet, and each of their four lines are imbedded elsewhere in the glosa. The opening quatrain is followed by four stanzas, each of which is generally ten lines long.
The first line of the borrowed quatrain becomes Line #10 of S1.
The second line of the quatrain becomes Line #10 0f S2.
The third line of the quatrain becomes Line #10 of S3.
And the fourth line of the quatrain finishes ends up as Line #10 of S4.
As for rhymes? I've seen several different methods.
The one that seems to allow the most flexibility (always a good thing!) goes as follows.
S1L6 and S1L9 must rhyme with S1L10,
S2L6 and S2L9 must rhyme with S2L10,
S3L6 and S3L9 must rhyme with S3L10, and
S4L6 and S4L9 must rhyme with S4L10.
We are living in the middle, you and I,
between butterfly beginnings - ethereal endings.
Despite Natural Law, I'm persuaded to pause;
if possible, dear, let chrysalis continue ...
Timothy Levi Hicks
Living in the Middle
Rules of life restrict us from infancy.
If instincts are true we thrive, each new lesson,
a cynosural guide to success, an urge to forget
those practices made to thwart happiness.
Spare spending habits, avoiding the seven deadly sins,
passages, and reaching for that metaphoric sky
Until, true love, that mystic carriage to what may be;
the chrysalis that cradles heightened mystery.
The inevitable enduring of drudge before we fly.
We are living in the middle, you and I.
There is much we live, reliant upon chance happenings.
What if we had never met? If our paths had never
intersected or, if they did, we failed to connect.
Missed the perfect moment when the sky was right
to usher in romance, the laws of allurement
that shaped 'Plaisir d'amor' in magical renderings.
The ardent awareness of simpler things;
Brilliant colors, ambrosial kisses and heavenly perfumes.
The harmony of mutual understandings
between butterfly beginnings-ethereal endings.
The eager phase of dreams, of promises made,
getting used to things- some expected, some not.
then the arduous art of forgiving.
Our consent to cherish common objectives.
Was it happenstance our love succeeded - or was it
Because we overlooked each other's flaws-
What we expected in the moment?
Two souls astounded to be of the same accord;
that a chance encounter could be the cause.
Despite Natural Law, I'm persuaded to pause;
Too quickly the paragraphs of time we rèad.
Hand in hand we strolled the pages of our years,
standing fast against misfortunes we emerged,
shaped by caring and forbearing hearts.
Refusing to imagine life devoid of one another,
fighting new adversity with every sinew.
Nothing earthly, or in heaven, can measure
this small eternity we have made ourselves.
No matter how circumstance may try to spin you,
if possible, dear, let chrysalis continue ...
Suzanne Delaney
A Glosa
Copyright © Suzanne Delaney | Year Posted 2016
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