Friday, April 1, 2016

I made a rhyme (and eye liked it).

We're all familiar with eye rhymes, although I only discovered the term recently. An eye rhyme involves two words that look as though they should rhyme, like tough and through, but don't. At one time many of the words, which are spelled similarly, actually did rhyme, but changes in pronunciation caused them to cease doing so, especially during the Great Vowel Shift. Many lost their lives in that horrific seismic disaster.

I thought it would be a great idea to write a poem that doesn't actually rhyme, using only eye rhymes. I hope you'll play along at home by reading. To make it work properly, read the lines as if they actually did rhyme. Read aloud for the whole family to enjoy. Fun and educational!

"Moved by Love" 

by Frederick Key

The muse dost now within me move
To sing the virtues of my love
The perfect face, the perfect height
Long hair, and somewhat zaftig weight
All men say she’s a livin’ doll
(No, really! Here’s the latest poll!)
I bought her flowers at Ye Home Depot
Which she, forthwith, commenced to repot
Her taste proved flawless yet again!
Too bad her mother’s such a pain
Her father, though, is full of laughter
And fond of she, his youngest daughter
As well as all the family brood
Who swelled about me like a flood
One winter's day when, told to come,
I joined them in their modest home
And of my hunger I did slake
Upon some mushrooms (shiitake)
And bowls of peas and shredded wheat
Dad's generosity, it was great
But mother gave an angry cough
And said I ran through too much dough
She said that I would feel her shoe
Were I to eat just one more sloe
Dismissed, I sought a tree to climb
To reach my love from outstretched limb
To spirit her away to town
Elope, and make my love my own
But quelle surprise! And what a bother!
I got the window of her mother!
And with strong arms she used to knead
She threw me down upon my head
Now suffering grievous body harm
Through snow I slunk to go get warm
I sit in pain upon this tuffet
Within Ye Local Hometown Buffet
And muse upon my fortune low
With worried look on bloody brow
My heart within me deigns to break
My injured soul feels kinda weak
My hand so feebly inscribes this book
By just another lovesick kook.

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