October 1947 QST
I have never been a fan of "free verse" poetry,
be it in the form of a sonnet or otherwise.
In my humble opinion,
poems that do not both rhyme and have some measure of meter
represent laziness on the part of the 'poet.'
Without requiring poetry to rhyme,
all that is required to declare anything a poem
is to break the writing into poem-like lines,
et voilà - you have a poem.
It is like slinging a brush-load of paint
onto a canvas and calling it art.
-- I hereby proclaim the above to be a poem - see what I mean?
I will (reluctantly) excuse the following example since it was written by a Ham about Amateur Radio, and it does satisify the definition of a sonnet regarding juxtaposing unrelated concepts.
Today I held the wide world in my hand;
Space rolled away and England's sun was low,
As Ken of Cambridge told me of his land.
Next, fast as thought, as he said, "Cheerio,"
I raced the sun, until at zenith time
O'er western plains I said "Hello" to Lee -
Then "73," and morning skies were mine
As John became my host at Waikiki.
The XYL recalled my wandering
To Georgia's pines, for dinnertime was nigh.
When, afterward, with Venus shimmering
Beside a thin new moon and Mars' red light,
I gazed their way, and wondered as night fell -
"Cannot we hold these in our hands as well?"
- Ewell G. Pigg, W4KGD
Posted July 19, 2016