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The Bottom Line...

The WIND blew COLD and I shivERED niceLy
the LAND turned BROWN and WE saw TWO mice RUN
howlING gales RAN rathER fastER than ME
I COULD neVER see HOW some FOLKS have FUN

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Last few words: 
I think I have it now? I will try to catch up. Had car problems and doctor appts. and...Well you know how it goes.
Editing stage: 


I have been struggling with this...somewhat caught up but you know my situation....

Keep Writing,

"Quoth said the Raven, NEVERMORE"

Which metric unit is this? Which drill?


Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words
........Robert Frost☺

Follow me

the wind/ blew cold/ and i shiv/ered nice/ly [mixed meter]
the land/ turned brown/ and we/ saw two/ mice run [iambic]
howling/ gales ran/ rather/ faster/ than me [trochee with final iamb]
i could/ never/ see how/ some folks/ have fun [trochaic]

A new workshop on the most important element of poetry-
'Rhythm and Meter in Poetry'

but it still has problems.

The wind / blew cold / and I / shiv-ered / nice-ly (two Iambs and three Trochee)
the LAND / turned brown / and we / saw two / mice run (Iamb, but I'm not crazy about the last three feet... near, but... )
how-ling / gales ran / ra-ther / fast-er than / me (two Trochee, a Dactyl and a hanging syllable "catalexis")
I could ne- / ver see / how some / folks have fun (an Anapest, two Iambs and another Anapest)

One of my points here is that most poems can be scanned multiple ways depending on how they are read. In the workshop environment though, I would like to see such a command of meter that it cannot be parsed any way but one.

It is an exercise, so we want to force ourselves to be strict that we gain that mastery.

Does that make sense?



W. H. Snow

A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds. Percy Bysshe Shelley

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