It occurs to me how easy it would be in free verse to eliminate (indeed, altogether avoid) the compositional challenges traditional poets encounter by simply sweeping them away in unfettered lines; but, it is precisely those dilemmas (and here is a perfect example), created by the constraints and conventions of the style, that make the writing of traditional poetry so uniquely appealing—so intriguing, engaging and satisfying.
creative process
Yesterday, I stopped myself squandering a line on the “Cranes and Sheep” poem. Allow me briefly to explain. The tempo of “Cranes and Sheep” is lively, one does not so much savour its words as cavort with them. It occurred to me that the line in question would be better suited to a more contemplative work. That work, I realised, is the recently completed “Quietude”1. Its metre is the same as that of “Cranes and Sheep”, but its tempo slower. As if destined for the poem, the line fits unaltered at the end of its single stanza, rhyming word and all!
- The poems I reference are not yet published. They will be part of a themed collection—likely to be completed in 2021—and are, therefore, not available anywhere at present.
Clarity versus Symmetry
In the current version of the “Cranes and Sheep” draft, I must choose between pairing “in the sun” (at the end of the first stanza) with either “with their young” or “in the run” (at the end of the second stanza). Whilst “in the run” allows for visual alliteration between the last lines of the first two stanzas, its meaning—“in the pasture and sheep tracks”—may be unclear (I could use “on the run”, but it would be inapt1); “with their young” solves this problem, but it eliminates the symmetry (and is an imperfect rhyme, which here I wish to avoid).
Further complicating matters is the fact that my decision will determine which variations I may use for the stanzas that follow. My choice, then, is between the clarity, asymmetry and imperfect rhyme of “with their young” and the ambiguity, symmetry and perfect rhyme of “in the run”. I suspect I shall choose clarity, but symmetry is hard to resist. Shall I choose the former and risk being criticised by a future reader baffled as to why I did not choose the latter—and does this not perfectly answer my recent question on the subject of artistic choice?
- “On the run” may be a possibility, if I could strip it of its idiomatic meaning (“attempting to avoid capture”), but thus far, I have been unsuccessful in that regard.
Forgotten Fields 