Sometimes it seems that Druidry is all about Bardic poetry. Sometimes perhaps it is. When I was at school, poetry was a torture undergone reluctantly alongside Far from the Madding Crowd (which formed the majority of my English Literature O-Level exam (which I passed yah boo sucks and chiz)). However, I’m having a new look at the structure of English poetry in order to improve my heretofore entirely free form attempts; only a few of which I’ve ever been totally happy with.
My eye was drawn to Stephen Fry’s recent book, ‘The Ode Less Travelled’, which looks to be a very approachable study into ‘how to versify’ – not least because it was on special offer, but none the worse for that. I was working through the early chapters, from simple to (presumably) terrifyingly difficult, and I thought I’d stick my drivel here to remind me that I’m no poet! Just in case I get delusions of adequacy.
Iambic Pentameter (and you can tell I was engrossed in an Energis (I mean Cable and Wireless of course) SDH networking job…)
Occasionally sitting here alone
I listen to the telephone dial tone
I peel my orange gently to avert
The spurt of juice that damages my shirt
The hurried rush, each problem to resolve
Is balanced by each calmness in between
The thoughts that Stephen Fry has given me
Result in extraordinary text
Immediately after writing this
I blogged it here so you could take the piss…