For a Friend who Never Moved Beyond the 18th Century
For a Friend who Never Moved Beyond the 18th Century —————————————————————————— There once was a time when it was wrong not to rhyme, But for most that day is long gone. And I suppose, running closer to prose, I’ve lost some ability in song. Poems flowing free hold no calling for thee, But don’t be so hasty to curse. ‘Twould be a sin to discard on a whim Powerful, yet unrhymed, verse.