Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE POET'S SOLILOQUY, by E. M. AVERILL

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THE POET'S SOLILOQUY, by            
First Line: To write or not to write, that seems to be
Last Line: The richest treasure of my humble heart.
Subject(s): Poetry & Poets

To write or not to write, that seems to be
A question that is agitating me;
For style and taste are changing with the moon;
The writer, critic, loony as a loon;
And meter, rhythm, sense, and even rhyme,
Ignored, despised and outraged half the time,
Until the stream-line model is a verse
Of badly juggled prose or something worse.

I like the songs sung by the bards of old,
With melodies of sweetness, themes of gold,
And in my aspiration long to climb
Toward those everlasting peaks sublime;
But if my shortened sight could trace a path
Through all the changing years and aftermath,
To yonder heights from which their lamps have shown,
I fear I must needs tread that path alone.

It seems the verdict, nay, it is, indeed,
Of those who in the field of verse would lead,
The deeper hid the theme, if theme it has,
Or broken, scattered, scrambled, well, like jazz,
The higher is the art, provided too,
It shuns all meter, rhythm, and is new,
Or else some college technic and the blind
Excentric impulse of a roving mind.

Ignoring quite this deviating trend,
When I do write, my powers all shall bend
To make my message clear, and furthermore,
Provide a theme of worthiness. Therefore;
The verse that I select shall trip along
As gently as an old forgotten song
Comes back to memory, with its theme, apart,
The richest treasure of my humble heart.

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