I tried to teach Scott meter yesterday,
And he caught on pretty quickly, sometimes
Breaking the pattern for the sake of play
With the refinement of a little child's
Innocent pantomime. Play is the word,
The riled-up sort that comes after days
And days, effortless unstrained sprinting.
Can you say what line is above?
Could you answer what measure be this?
(Trochees aren't my skill, sadly,
By the reach of my silver tongue.)
1 comment:
Very bard-like.
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