Treasure Island

Sadiqullah Khan


A Limerick


Of the cadences high and low,
A beat in rythmic duple, stressed and unstressed.
Counting the syllabi in the line ending, feminine,
In expanse or softness or an upbeat sounding man’s.
The iambic is the beginning and the verse is blank.
The rhymic order is in lower case abba or abab.
The sound musical is in four letters.
A square is a square, place it straight or upright.
In pentameter the expression goes wild,
In hexameter the form gets Greek.
A brawl or a soldier’s story is limerick.
The humbler the form the lesser the meaning.
Who follows the rules, have tides in emotion,
A feeling in intensity or lost in the nature.
Love’s sweet fables or the soliloquy of mother.
The morning breeze or the pause of dew.
A sonnet though has lines fourteen.
A stanza is like a room to converse.
You have brought down from nature just few.
All poetics are thus in beats and off beats.
Is all human experience can be counted so less.
Her tongue and my tongue and all tongues.
Thus knoweth rules so scarce.

Submitted: Friday, April 19, 2013
Edited: Sunday, May 25, 2014

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Topic(s): love and art

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