When rhymes come to an end,
it will be because God decides it must be so.
Till then, we are meant to use rhymes, sometimes.
There are poets who think in terms of conversations,
like they're confessing their innermost feelings,
to someone in the same room, to those nearby,
perhaps screaming out a poet's pain, or shouting for joy,
or with gentle whispers, with short pauses between phrases,
as if momentarily collecting their thoughts,
before uttering them to anyone else at all.
The rhyming poet is merely acting by faith,
that there's a rhyme that's meant to come,
even after the first part has been written down or typed out.
There's a mystery tour, in that the poet is searching,
for the first parts of each possible rhyme that's sublime.
So don't think the poet knows what's going on every single time,
that's the exact opposite of experience or reality.
It's that lived-out mystery tour, reaching a profound conclusion,
that makes the latest poem all the more exquisite
and something to be savoured and respected,
just for all the good that will result in its sharing.
For sometimes, it will reach across the world,
to all those that are capable of enjoying that language,
that elegance, that eloquence, that word of comfort,
that phrase of fantastic effect.
So, it's no wonder that God must be pleased,
with all the great poets who ever lived
and each gift bestowed upon these writers
and their ministry of wisdom through love.
For surely, an unpaid poet deserves greater honour
than the poet that is paid, or becomes famous,
for each poem given freely is more precious in God's sight.
And should it rhyme and please the listening child,
or the adult silently reading, then all the better,
for any extra joy, any measure magically expressed,
any anointing of the Lord, beyond the written text,
beyond the initial sentiments, thoughts, aspirations and dreams.
For who knows if such a new poem is translated,
into another language with beauty all its own?
To be spread abroad to the hearts and minds
of a few million or a few billion more?
So be glad whatever structure is initially preferred,
for the singular choosing of each word, that so preciously stirred
to bless and assist the penning poet to press on,
throughout the years and the decades of poems yet to be...
for such is the endurance and the power of poetry...
Denis Martindale March 2018.