Strict, starched, rigid and clipped,
Crisp soldier words at attention to be employed
for the prevention of rampant verbosity.
Martial lines deployed to curtail the
Insidious rabble of soft flowing sounds
Which inhabit my poetry.
Culling adjective, curtailing verbs,
Dispatching nouns, inadvertently disturbs
The freedom-fighters, the pushy and pert
Who, even when faced with orders curt,
Raise their flags to etymology.
One side, trained in highest Haiku
Move to secure clarity’s view.
The other, the rabble throng
Counter attack. The battle is pyrrhic.
An escaping word, a high-blown lyric
Makes sure the war goes on.
© Susan E. Birch
Excerpt from the book Ancient Whispers
About the Author
When Susan was eleven years old a teacher, knowing her love of Literature and History, gave her a copy of The Complete Works of Shakespeare and a poetry anthology both of which changed her life. When she opened the book of poetry it naturally fell open at a page on which was a poem called ‘The Cloths of Heaven’ by W.B. Yeats. She read it and was stunned as it was the first time words had actually drawn a picture in her mind. Later, reading the book of Shakespeare, she found Sonnet 18’ and found the answer to why poets wrote poetry. From then on she was an avid reader of poetry and fell in love with the classical poets.
Visit Susan’s Author Page At: www.ctupublishinggroup.com/susan-e.-birch-.html