Hola, everybody! Happy Cinco de Mayo! I honestly don't know much about Cinco de Mayo, other than that it is a Mexican Independence Day that isn't really an Independence Day, or something like that. If any of my readers are familiar with Mexican culture, please share your knowledge of the holiday, because I'm kind of curious :)
Anyway, I've spent the better part of my afternoon at the library, working on fiction (steampunk fiction, not Wizard101). About an hour and a half ago, though, I suddenly started feeling very poetic (not sure why), and so I figured I'd take some time to try my hand at poetry.
I've never really written poetry before, other than for school assignments, but the purpose of those was to imitate a certain style of poetry, and so I don't much care for those poems. They got me a good grade, but that's about as much literary merit as they have.
This, on the other hand, truly came from the heart- 8 four-lined stanzas, using a classic ABCB rhyming pattern (although a couple times I had to settle for assonance), and crafted from my own experiences, though it is very metaphorical. And it is, admittedly, partially inspired by the style and diction of my favorite poet, Emily Dickinson.
Please take the time to read it; I'm very enthusiastic to know what you all think!
Until then, Ponder On!
Whatever Happened to April?
Whatever happened to April
And her light-headed joy?
She passed on by without a care
Making men from boys.
Her excitement, and sweet sentiment
Contagious though they were
Feel now as but a fantasy
Gone forever more.
She was not without her tribulations.
She was often sad.
But there was nothing more satisfying
Than turning sad into glad.
It was a wholesome satisfaction
And beautiful in that way.
Emotion rich and wonder wide
Each and every day.
But as quickly as she came to me
April up and went.
Snatched away one fateful day
And my bliss was spent.
But memories of her still linger.
They fill me with resolve
And hope that if I do things right
I’ll find her after all.
She will be slightly different
Even, perhaps, in name.
But from time to time, a spark will rise
And she’ll be April once again.
Whatever happened to April?
She was here, and now she’s gone.
I May or May not have a chance.
But I’ll muddle on.
