The Art Of Poetry Poem by Roy Ballard

‘Of writing well, be sure, the secret lies
in wisdom, therefore study to be wise'[1]
but what is wisdom how can it be got?
It is not learning; cleverness it's not;
nor ready wit nor probity nor wealth
nor gained for sure by cunning nor by stealth;
the words of children oftentimes have strength
while many grown-up authors rave at length.
So, writer, may your works be widely read
but only if you've weighed what you have said.

Does good verse come from nature or from art;
so should I search the heavens or my heart?
The human heart! Oh what a yearning there!
What consolation, passion and despair!
There is no art to search the heavens through
to find an equal of the heart in you
but we are nature and the poet sings
the joy of being one of nature's things;
it is most natural then that both should be,
both art and nature, part of poetry.

If you should ask the aim of writing rules:
they guide the wise and are imposed on fools.
When mighty music flows it has its ways
of breaching barriers of bygone days
but through the channels of those well worn schemes
there comes the vision of the new regimes.
It is a duty writers cannot shirk:
to make the language sing, to make it work,
to pass on learning and to cause delight;
‘fail by a whisker and you fail outright'.



[1] The Art of Poetry, Horace, translator John Conington