Chatting with Samrat over our routine afternoon coffee brought the conversation to poetry-writing. I have always been a dud at proper poetry, which I've considered a gaping hole in my writing abilities, whatever I possess of them :). I tried a couple of times, but the results were the products of a sputtering and painful process and like errant children, brought no joy to their progenitor. And I was happy to bury them.
Along the way, I've been getting confused what constitutes "proper poetry". Rhyme "skims" or blank "worse"? And the critical reviews of amateur poets in college of efforts by other amateur poets during the times in the college magazine served to keep the answer a confused one.
I've left all attempts right now, but maybe it will seek me later in life. And then I can claim to be a "legside" player too, in a manner of speaking.
But quite appropriately, Wordsmith's A Word A Day has been sending out words from poetry this week, and the quote in today's mail was:
A poem begins with a lump in the throat. -Robert Frost (1874-1963)
I'll take his word for it.