Form

Of the past few examples, only Dust Bunny Friends mostly followed the true sonnet form. The rest were merely variations on the basic rhyme and structure. You would think that makes them free verse, but they are not. Free verse is something completely loosed from all historical moorings as we will see later. It follows no set rule on line, length, structure, content, or form. Here the sonnet originally came from the regions surrounding Italy, most likely. Another close cousin is the villanelle, a French version with even stricter repetition, verse, and rhyme. That all sounds rather exhausting, does it not.

Then there is the most traditional English form of poetry, the ballad. Ballads follow a short wandering progression of a story in four-line form while the epic is reserved for longer tales. It was so called due to strict storytellers, known as bards, who would wander the hillside with a lyre in hand. A lyre in that day was simply a small musical instrument similar to a guitar of today which is also much larger. Of course, not all these bards frequented taverns and were generally annoying. Whenever there was a story of adventure and bravery to be told, a bard stood on hand ready to record it. Record them these did which then played it well to a ready audience of all who would listen. Back then, the largest audience any could find outside of a church was the market or for more social purposes, a tavern. For those who don't know, these were more than just houses of good food and some drink. These hosted rooms for people to stay, much like an inn.

After a while, those came who simply wanted to express themselves on a variety of topics. Not all of these followed the traditional rules that governed rhyme and poem structure. These became known as the ode, elegy, pastoral, and ekphrasis among others. Whether it was an ode or elegy depended on if the writer intended celebration or lament. The pastoral could be found amid nature scenes and the ekphrasis was simply something that referred to a work of art.

In other countries, such as France, the poet grew and prospered though not entirely free. The French typically known for their unmoored society, were surprisingly picky about their poetry. For instance, each word formed certain sounds. These sounds when said slowly became known as syllables. French poetry followed many such rules that governed the lines, sounds, and shape of the words. Supposedly it would help to set the poem to music. But as we will see later, this structure does not have that much effect besides making the poem stiff and surprisingly stodgy.

Here's (1) an (1) ex-ample (2) of (1) what (1) I (1) mean (1)

This line has exactly 8 syllables. It will need to fit in with the defined rules for that type of poem, otherwise it would be considered free verse. Not to be left out all the way on the other side of the globe, Eastern societies grew and prospered in relative isolation. Here the poetry sounds well thought out and relatively simple. It, in large part, needs not follow such heavy constraints, for the poets are worth their relative thinking. Relative thinking for instance implies poetry that is heavy on both content and themes. For instance, a poet might muse about the beauty and true meaning of life. Middle Eastern poetry also in large part, follows these same basic rules. The ghazal for instance, employs both line and relative thinking.

Bringer of the Sword

Have you ever heard

Lest conscience fret

How God and Satan

Made for us a bet.

A tale between two

Lovers conscience severed

Who could leave

Not you, not ever.

Have you ever seen

How betwixt the two

Circumstances around

Them sprang and grew.

First, among the two

Love turning into clay

In light of dawning

At the newborn day.

For among the night

Evil had sown

By devils gathered

Poison from lust's thorn.

And so the bet was on

For love to win

Against life's cares

Charted grim.

For all one could want

Hope or ever need

To them was found

In Christ indeed.

So the devils thought

A love so pure

Could only be from

The fire of Hell's allure.

From whence life grew

And it was plain to see

Eden wasn't the only

Of the Godhead tree.

For what would

Make them wise

They found could

But be despised.

So the lovers two

Were back together.

As they found at last

Some other feathers

To spur their onward

Heavenly flight

Lest evil come again

On them to blight.

In Christ alone their

Conscience laid

Bound by him together

Sins' debt to them repaid.

How often have you heard

That bringer of the sword.

But did you ever think

The one behind it was the Lord?

Hand to Hold

This man to take

And hold I pledge –

To thee; but not remake

Else would his mother

Then I be or

Better yet another.

Before a stranger,

Meeting here yet

Without mortal danger

On this happy day

His hand to take

Then go on our way.

His precious treasure,

Held with him

Always and forever.

Love and value dearly

Himself always

But not half as much nearly

As honoring none beside –

See, it wouldn't take much

For love to here abide.

Turns out not every December

Is themed another

Walk to remember.

Delay

No matter the delay

Of God or men seen

By earthly clay.

See, there can be no delay

For God's promises

Speak only of today.

Soon God will deliver you.

If not, still he'll be around

As home with him forever

Now his presence found.

Can't It

Can love grow in the valley

When the night's been too long

And the shadows won't give way to a song.

Can love come from the trials

And heartache in life

Or climb its way back out of strife.

Can love blossom freely

Like a bud on a rose

Hidden, unseen as it grows.

Can love creep in softly

Like a whisper of wind

A ray of hope for the journey's end.

For the Father is listening

When none hears the words you cry

Or cares to measure the strength of your sigh.

Our God can bring healing

In our trials and pain

And peace from the storm and the rain.