Sunday, 19 July 2015

Volta in your face

Well, I can’t do the volta to a turn -
it turns up by itself, twirls in at the start;
it won’t sit in its place, it will not learn
that timing is the pinnacle of this art.

It fidgets when I fit it for an octave
and it won’t agree to wait for the twelfth;
it will dance when it pleases, I must waive
all rules, it must decide things for itself.

I must be submissive, it must control
the style and metre of stanza and line.
It’s brash and pushy, grabs the writer’s role
thrusts me aside, writes out this life of mine.

Life can’t be a perfect sonnet for those
whose voltas come in at the start, or close.

I am travelling and will probably be offline more often than I like :)  Enjoy the poetry here and in the season/world wherever you are.  I will catch up with you as and when I can beg/borrow/get a net connection. Stay well!


  1. And yet this volta,
    this thing you write
    to make one enjoy
    the smoothness of lines
    it cares not, but does
    its own thing until
    even you question
    which hand held the pen
    My muse smiled back at me
    And said “see you’re not alone”

    1. That's good the muse smiled! :) always good news, that particular smile..

  2. It's the seat of the soul.
    Safe travels!

  3. Keep safe, Nila. Glad you're still posting your magic! Love the rhyming couplet at the end.

    You'll love knowing that I am currently teaching poetry to two year levels of seniors. Wallow, wallow, wallow....

    Denise :-)

    1. If I could teach, that would be my dream job Denise! Wth, I think it's my dream job anyways :)

  4. I like the clever way in which you've weaved the 'volta concept' throughout the poem.
    It's almost like a rebellious child... eager to do as it pleases.
    Love it!


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