Don’t let the crime of halfpenny rhyme
abjure your verse, don’t let the curse of
dismal journalese cap your knees. You’re
better free of polished strictures, choosing
words for what they mean to you, as pictures
of your soul than going searching for obscure
but perfect rhyme. First plough the fields with
freshening words, seed them deep,
nurture them and let them grow.
In time the rhyme will come…
© I.D. Carswell
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