Happy Fourth to all…

for those with the time and inclination have some fun on the holiday parodying in some sort of loose baseball terms what others have written in centuries past…post it here when you have…it can take pretty much any form- sonnets, limericks, w.h.y. from a couplet up…

here’s one original two liner for example, John Betjeman on the inanities of the British class system…

it’s not for us to wonder why
he wears that rather odd school tie’ aa/88 (rhyme/syllables)

an Atlanta baseball fan might retort…

on Fredi flunked in bullpen mode
small modicum of sense bestowed.

or the four line verse…here, Hilaire Belloc on the joys and privations of 1920’s travel in Europe…

do you remember an inn, Miranda
do you remember an Inn
and the fleas that tease
in the High Pyrenees. irregular!

use that if you like as the basis for some fun…

or Philip Larkin’s cynical view of both parents and children…

man hands on misery to man
it deepens like a coastal shelf
get out as quickly as you can
and don’t have any kids yourself. abab rhyme, all lines 8 syllables

moving on to 5 lines, it must be the limerick…born in the pubs and working men’s clubs of southern Ireland three centuries ago it was originally both bawdy and scabrous..we can make it anything we want – poor Fredi again…

if we have five then i’ll use four
all other constructs to ignore
my finger’s in the wind
so many have i binned
but love them all, my darling corps. aabba 8/8/6/6/8

or, with the more traditional meter emphasis …

a hurler we’ve got in a trade
is rather infrequently laid
has been heard to complain
were i Maddox or Sain
exceptions would likely be made. same as above


…here we try to stick however loosely to a single source, Milton on his blindness – here’s his original…

When I consider how my light is spent, abba
Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide,
And that one talent which is death to hide,
Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent

To serve therewith my maker, and present abba
My true account, lest he returning chide,
Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?
I fondly ask; but Patience to prevent

That murmur, soon replies, God doth not need cdec
Either man’s work or his own gifts, who best
Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best, his state
Is kingly. Thousands at his bidding speed

And post o’er land and ocean without rest: de all lines 10 syllables
They also serve who only stand and wait.

ok…some general points…this is obviously a more disciplined and complex structure but don’t be put off by it, not as hard as it looks…and, though it be reverential in tone, WE DONT HAVE TO BE…parody, brother…satire, call it what you will…it’s not sunday yet…poetic licence, bring it on…multiple entries allowed/encouraged you never know, the second try might be an improvement…if you’re entering more than one ‘class'( a limerick and a sonnet for example) please post separately…ONLY THE SONNETS SHOULD BE ,VAGUELY, MILTONESQUE, THE OTHER FORMATS CAN BE ABOUT ANYTHING…