I’ve never been a poetry person. I tip my hat to those of you who are because in a lot of ways poetry is more complicated and difficult than novel writing and often judged more harshly. I’m not saying I hate poetry. I like discovering a poem that I connect with unexpectedly or find really beautiful. But writing them? I can count two instances where I tried my hand at it. The first: Expressing my oh-so-tortured soul in those angsty teenage years as is customary. And two: Writing them for a portfolio project in a college writing course.
Here’s a simple piece I wrote a few years back which I never titled. Is it even poetry? Or just a short little bit of prose that happens to rhyme? I don’t know. I’m out of my element here.
Ere break of dawn and eve of night she walked the shores of the sea.
And her grace spread far from land to land, for no one was fair as she.
Her beauty did stretch to the old grey Bard who dwelt in the tall Black Tower.
And proclaimed did he to his humble town, the wonder of this fresh flower.
From far and wide the people came to hear tales of this Lady.
They learned of her wisdom and delicate stance from the Bard whose words flowed greatly.
But the heart of this woman was far from pure, and her beauty was not true.
For she was a Witch whose jealousy swam, in a river no longer blue.
What do you think? Poetry or not? What would you title it?