The Prodigal Son

This is another poetry assignment from the workshop I took at Carleton last semester.

It follows one of the most complicated forms I have ever seen. It is a Welsh form called, "Englynion y clyweit." Here are the rules:

4 verses, 3 lines per verse, 7 syllables per line, each line in each verse must rhyme, each verse must ask a question with the first line introducing the question, the second line describing the question, and the third line must be a sort of proverb by itself, but can fit into the other three lines in the form of a question.

On top of this, our teacher asked us to pretend we were poet lauriates for Canada, and we had to write an 'Englynion y clyweit' about the georgraphical area we reside.

OK, here it is.

The Prodigal Son

Have you seen the poor man strive

Marching down Meadowlands Drive

Strength and will cannot survive?

Is this how we're meant to die

Cold, alone, unjustified

Empty hearts are lost in time?

Did you hear the gunshot ring

Silver bullet glistening

Open flesh bleeds suffering?

Can we turn this life around

Place our feet on solid ground

What was dead is safe and found?

Colin and Co.