Stanzas have lost literature’s respect 

Leaving it quite the act of sedition 

To keep honouring that old tradition. 

Poets take up words when they feel the urge 

With rapier wit, our dwindling army fights 

But those of my craft rarely know spotlights.

As recognition is hard to obtain 

Flowing lines lose in popularity 

Making mine courage or temerity.  

Perhaps that’s just the nature of the trade 

To dare greet those who don’t appreciate 

With faith in the worth of what I create. 

That art is how we decorate spaces 

And music is how we decorate time 

I have heard it be said, but what of rhyme? 

Verses do well to embellish the mind 

Take thoughts or emotions and leave them gilt

A sharp blade thus beckons for a fine hilt.