Word is a word
that rhymes with word.
But what about cord,
and ford and sword?
They don’t rhyme with word,
as you’ve no doubt heard.
How come English is so erratic,
so hard to learn and problematic?
My word, I wish I knew!
Photo from Pexels by Pixabay
First, un-pleat some solar cells
and wag that space antenna tail
to give our telescope some power
for data-sending mail.
Open sides, like two long arms,
then stretch-out layers of silver veils
to make a heat-shield from the Sun.
Too hot, our Webb could fail.
Next, erect the smaller mirror
then a radiator,
before reflective parts hinge wide.
That giant mirror’s locked, both sides,
to make a golden-petal flower
with infra-red its viewing power,
to be an ancient star-locator.
Deepest history translator!
Inspired by animation of deployment
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RzGLKQ7_KZQ
Must our poems rhyme
ALL the time?
No. Not so.
Don’t you know
Some verse is free
Like a fish in the sea?
But personally, I prefer my fish
Served on a regular dish
(With chips).
Monty Edwards
Monty said: The poem is something of a joke at my own expense, since I find it difficult to break the rhyming habit, but sometimes the ideas in a poem refuse to yield to the constraints of rhyme. This is admitted by the final line of the poem.
Rhyming Curse
I think my problem’s getting worse.
My every thought is thought in verse.
This habit’s now become a curse.
It happens all the time.
Each word inside me rattles round.
It plays with pattern, rhythm, sound
and won’t come out until it’s found
a perfect one to rhyme.
I wish I knew the way to mend
this most excruciating trend.
Just when will this affliction end?
What happens if it grows?
It’s shown no signs of stopping yet.
If I go on like this I bet
my brain will very soon forget
the way to think in prose.
