Silver Maple

The chirp of birds in morning’s glow,

The soft and white new shroud of snow.

The rising Sun has wondrous shine,

Above all that we see and know.

I draw my picture, line by line,

For what I write is not divine

Enough to see the awesome sea.

Minute are words not yet so fine,

To show what I can truly see,

To show to all the golden key.

Two silver maple trees will frame

The greatest painting that will be.

But to draw, that is one tall claim

One that will surely bring me fame.

But paint I can’t do, all the same,

But write I can do, all the same.

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Hi! Rishi here. I wanted to comment a bit on the above poem’s style. I somewhat lifted this from Robert Frost’s “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening“, do give me your thoughts on both poems. This poem is interlocking rubaiyat, so the rhyme scheme is AABA BBCB CCDC DDDD. It is my first attempt at iambic tetrameter, I’m not sure if I succeeded or not. What do you think? 🙂

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And since you liked my last random questionnaire, here’s another one:

1. What is your favorite literary genre?

2. Who is your favorite poet?

3. What is your favorite poem?

4. When was the last time you screwed up, and how?

5. When was the last time you did something good, and what?

Have a great day!