Tim
This post of mine was buried and I'm interested in your response--even if you tell me to get lost
Dies Irae
At the field's edge a feather
clings briefly to a bough
before a change of weather
offers it to the plough,
much as it did my father.
I wrote
Tim
You have just proved my point about near rhyme. That would be much less powerful with perfect rhyme.
In my piece above I deliberately used perfect rhyme but I will never regard perfect rhyme as anything other than an internal point where rhyme begins. I wanted to show you I could do it (hence terza rima) but I am very glad to see the above poem from you.
I should add that near rhyme never works unless the poet has a capacity to make perfect rhyme.
Fine poem.
Janet
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