I just wrote a poetics statement in which I mentioned the thirteen month curve, after which point I hate everything I've written. Makes it difficult to feel good about publishing.
My good-timing champion (read: Mom/Alice Ann/totally rad)found this and sent me the PDF. "You've been writing poetry for a long time."
Teaser of My Lifetime: Reversed syntax, quatrains, pentameter.... and a "Fresh Prince of Bel-Air" reference. (Typed version not as [sic] as it should be, but give me a break.)
I wish I was a medieval child
Who was a princess kind, not wild.
My parents were the king and queen
And I’d be praised for everything.
But I wouldn’t gloat, or act so great
Because someone awful would seal my fate.
I hope I meet a jolly good knight,
Who saves me when I’m frozen in fright.
If a dragon tries to scare me bad,
My protecting knight would get SO MAD!
He’d slay that dragon, just for me,
And I’d curtsy and say, “Why, I thank thee!”
I’d live in the castle of Camelot,
And fear me, of course, the kingdom would not.
Merlin and I would brew many a potion
And test it out we would do with caution.
King Arthur, my father, would hold me on his lap
And say, “My little daughter, take a short nap!
And when you’re through,
I’ll be waiting here for you
To tell you the story of my medieval life
Up to the time when I saw Guinevere, my wife!”
Then I would sleep, and when I awoke –
There would be Arthur! (It hadn’t been a joke!)
We would sit and talk for an hour.
Then I’d walk to the highest tower
And look at the kingdom that would someday be mine…
I’d stand there and look out of the tower –
To think, that someday I’d have all that power!
To rule a kingdom, gay and great,
To everything set a date,
Like when the beheading of thieves will be,
And when the whole kingdom will come dine with me.
Ah, but that is in many a year,
But on that great day, I’ll be filled with cheer.
But alas, I’m just a kid from the 90’s
But maybe a time warp will occur… to medieval times.