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Abstract

ot write, because in truth,A sudden surge of heat doth mark my day.I cannot fight its fury and forsooth,I think I just may put my pen away.With book in hand, (a wondrous tale, I trow)I sit myself beneath a garden tree,Its branches lend me shade, and so for now,Absorbed in murderous prose I’ll surely be.And very soon I’m lost within the tale.I’m taken on some curly twists for sure.I try to spot the villain, but I fail.The writer’s might I simply can’t endure.I close my eyes, the heat still hard to bare,And soon I’m in repose I had not planned.And when I wake I’m instantly aware,My feet are burned to crisp as is one hand.’Tis sorrow that I feel for summer days.Much more to rant on, surely than to praise.<div id="0f01" class="link-block">

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    <a href="https://readmedium.com/elegy-written-as-a-reflection-on-our-blue-mountains-walk-973071c9c2ed">
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            <h2>Elegy Written As A Reflection On Our Blue Mountains Walk</h2>
            <div><h3>At the end of our lives, let’s hope we don’t regret all the risks we didn’t take, and cherish the ones we did…</h3></div>
            <div><p>medium.com</p></div>
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    </div><p id="603e">A few tags of people who might just like to write in elegy style…</p><p id="0069"><a href="undefined">Amy Marley</a> <a href="undefined">Marcus aka Gregory Maidman</a> <a href="undefined">Carolyn Hastings</a> <a href="undefined">Jane Frost (Jane Grows Garden Rooms)</a> <a href="undefined">James Knight</a> <a href="undefined">Anastasia Frugaard</a></p></article></body>

When It’s Too Hot To Seriously Write Why Don’t You Inspire Your Creative Muse To Compose Poetry Instead?

Just a little elegy written on a super- hot Ozland day

‘Classical elegiac poetry was generally structured in couplets. Since the eighteenth century, stanzas within elegy poems typically feature a quatrain, written in iambic pentameter with an ABAB rhyme scheme. However, this structure is only suggestive, as many poets compose elegies with different meter and rhyme scheme

An Escapist Elegy Written In My Back Yard

Today I cannot write, because in truth,

A sudden surge of heat doth mark my day.

I cannot fight its fury and forsooth,

I think I just may put my pen away.

With book in hand, (a wondrous tale, I trow)

I sit myself beneath a garden tree,

Its branches lend me shade, and so for now,

Absorbed in murderous prose I’ll surely be.

And very soon I’m lost within the tale.

I’m taken on some curly twists for sure.

I try to spot the villain, but I fail.

The writer’s might I simply can’t endure.

I close my eyes, the heat still hard to bare,

And soon I’m in repose I had not planned.

And when I wake I’m instantly aware,

My feet are burned to crisp as is one hand.

’Tis sorrow that I feel for summer days.

Much more to rant on, surely than to praise.

Elegy Written As A Reflection On Our Blue Mountains Walk

At the end of our lives, let’s hope we don’t regret all the risks we didn’t take, and cherish the ones we did…

medium.com

A few tags of people who might just like to write in elegy style…

Amy Marley Marcus aka Gregory Maidman Carolyn Hastings Jane Frost (Jane Grows Garden Rooms) James Knight Anastasia Frugaard