9th October 2021
There was a time when I was particularly keen on writing poems using the Iambic Decameter (in which there are always ten syllables per line.)
Here is one called Finity, from 21st June 1966:
It seems that all existence is a sphere,
one single, finite, universal globe.
This is a thought, at first, that we can fear,
but let us into this enigma probe.
If all the vast, chaotic strife of space,
which is, God knows, so difficult to bear,
were gathered up into some certain place,
we’d know that it would end – but know not where.
The universe would seem a smaller thing,
than being with infinity perplexed,
a finite sphere would comprehension bring
and we, with awe, no longer would be vexed.
Trevor Glyn Locke