[Susan McLean]

I have attempted dimeter only once and wasn't very happy with the result, but I will post it for whatever reaction it will get.

Saint Shakespeare

When I was young
and ripe, and wore
my hemlines high
and necklines low,
a bald man at
a party saw
a trinket on
a silver chain,
which rested in
the valley that
two hills contain--
and leaning in
for a good look
"Is that a saint's
medal?" he guessed.
I answered yes.

[epigone]

Tim M.,

I've never fished but have long been a fan of the dimeter recited by your fishing masseur (although I remember it a bit differently).

[Kevin Andrew Murphy]

Clerihews are fun. One of mine:

William Jefferson Clinton
Left something other than lint on
Monica's blue gown
Yet only she went down.

[Tim Murphy]

Great Clerihew, Kevin. We had a big discussion of them on one of the Mezey threads. Thanks, Epigone, I suspect the version you know goes:

To a Trout

I whet my hook
beneath a pine,
then with a swish
I loft my line
over a brook
of sparkling wine.
Come little fish,
and we will dine.

Pretty good dimeter, sound sense of line, Susan, but it cries out for rhymes to bind it together. Start with abcb, then when you're really in the groove, go to abab or abba. As for abcbabcb? Don't try it at home.

[Deborah Warren]

I'm with Tim on the rhyme, Susan--but it'll be an enjoyable task.

I've written one poem in dimeter--and then only as an entry in a contest that called for a poem longer than I like to write. I was so embarrassed by its length when it was accepted for a magazine that I suggested the editor print it as tetrameter couplets. He didn't, but when I put it in my book I did, to save space (cheeseparing Yankee that I am).

Yours is the right length.

[wendy v]

I've enjoyed reading through this thread.

I love working in dimeter, and am probably dangerously close to doing so too much. It often feels like pulling on an old pair of jeans that start off a little snug, then begin to loosen -- just enough. One keeps reaching for them again and again. Such a tiny meter, so flexible !
And I think rhyme always helps at the seams.

Susan, I agree with the comments above re: your poem requiring some end rhyme to show off its swing.
Definitely worth the time it would take.

Here's a silly pair I've posted before to the Deep End, which I include here just for fun. The second blends itself with some other meters, but still reads dimeter to me.

Whodunnit

She's pretty sure
that it was her,
but properly
it would be she
who knew the score
and left the door
slightly ajar --
wish on a star !

The lights grow dim.
So does she.
It wasn't him,
nor was it he.

.

Accessory to the Crime

It's clear to me
this poem has thrust
and verve
and hospitality

and depth, and wit --
a vision, this,
I writ
the thing posthumously --

and I daresay
when I adjust
to fame
and immortality

I'll write a song
that hasn't got
a spot
of dust or mystery,

where he is he,
and she is she,
and love
is never history.