The Rhythm of Poetry
There is a pattern in the syllables of certain words
The adjectives and nouns add to the tempo in verbs
It’s like a cadence being chanted in my mind
The rhythm takes shape in pictures refusing to be confined
The metre begins to pulse from the very page I'm writing on
My imagination is released from its cage following the song ‘till dawn
I bob my head to each sentence that's wrote
When my dark moods set in, poetry is my antidote
The stanzas must have a strong pulse, a steady beat
It’s on impulse that the melody in me is concrete!
The cadence grows louder and louder in my head!
I was born after the sound of the horn, a thoroughbred!
I am relieved when the music is conceived in me;
Just follow the rhythm of my poetry!
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