Tuesday, March 30, 2010
trees, sonnet, Alexandrine
For pigeons it is easy to choose; you are better off on a lamppost.
A dull theme for a poem refuses to come to life in the vers libre format, which I have chosen because I thought it best suited to the subject. I decide to make it into a sonnet. The search for the form demands new images. The images lead to new ideas. It all seems to be falling into place. There is a reason for rhyme and scansion and a given number of lines, where you least expect it.
After an hour or so wallowing in The Penguin Book of French Poetry 1820 - 1950, the long plaintive music of the Alexandrine, containing all that is beautiful in the French language, unfolds in my ears.