First Day of Camp

An exercise in iambic pentameter.

It's just not fair; I want to learn to fence.
But here we are: one coach, eight kids and me.
Am I a fool to try to do this now?
My hair all white, my legs too stiff to move.
My heart says yes, I need to learn this skill.
But oh the pain to lose to someone new.
Too old to win, too young to quit, that's me.
If I quit now how will I ever know
Was it too much to ask myself to dream?

Comments

  1. jpbrownDecember 28, 2008 at 5:58 PM

    Good one, love, but the last three-and-a-half lines are not all iambic (though certainly pentameters).

    someone new (three longs)
    too old (spondee - two longs)
    too young (spondee - two longs)
    how will (trochee)
    ever know (anapest - two shorts, long)
    was it (trochee - long, short)
    too much (spondee - two longs)

    (Not that you *can't* do this in pentameters, and I liked the poem.)

    ReplyDelete

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