Nonsense Poem 3
When you rhyme "handkerchief" with "mantlepiece"
It's just a way of showing that you know
Not rhyme but scansion, that you have the lease
On how words fit to rhythms, fast and slow,

And that responsible can never rhyme
Though bee's lip sips apocalypse for free
And June moon dune's due soon -- ah, all the time,
Since Odin first drew words down from the tree.

But I dream of a time when I know what to say
Sensing a feeling I want to get right
To what neat ends we lend ourselves this way
And poetry's simpler than sleeping tonight.

Words leap like dolphins, phosphorescent flash,
And sink back to the dark without a splash.

(It's a good thing I have a whimsy section on my poetry page, that's all I'm saying. I got out of the bath to write this down!)
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My thanks, and the continuing stream of poems.
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I will share the Eowyn poems I wrote in 1996 with everyone at this level. There are seven of them, and a couple of them are really pretty good pastiche feminist Anglo-Saxon poetry.
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Everyone at this level can suggest a subject or mode for a poem, and every month I will pick one and write it.
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We joke about producing a volume of "Jo Walton's False Starts" -- all the novels I begin and then can't actually write. I'll go through my hard drive and find some that I'm definitely never going to finish and post them for patrons only. Will include the Mori on the moon fragment of Among Others sequel "Beside Ourselves".
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As with the $20 reward, you get unfinished fragments, and you can suggest subjects for poems, PLUS I will have dinner with you at Worldcon, or another con we're both going to, once a year.
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