I like poetry to rhyme. Sure, some non-rhyming poetry is neat, but as a kid it stuck in my head that poems = rhymes, and poems that don’t rhyme feel weird somehow. Still, I’ve written some stuff that doesn’t rhyme. I like the challenge of rhyming, but when I want to write an idea quickly, it’s easier not to rhyme. Like this word picture:
The Fire Maidens
The golden pail of spilling sunlight
Slowly sinks behind the horizon
As the last fire-maidens
Flash over the water
Their clouds of red-gold fire
Swirl around their faces
And their light
Off the water beneath them.
Till the last of spilling sunlight
And the fire-maidens
Leave with it.
In relation to last week’s post, this was definitely a poem that was published in a vanity anthology once…