Q is for Quadrilew

  

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A lot of people don't believe me when I say that I get depressed every spring. Spring is not when my fancy turns to love, it's when my thoughts turn to suicide ideation.

The official name for the condition is "reverse SAD."

My name for it is "this blows."

The Real Spring Fever

I felt tired today

 Felt a little hopeless

 I felt in the way

I just couldn't focus

 Felt a little hopeless

Felt like no-one cares

 The world's out of focus

 When you're in despair

I felt in the way

 Like a worn out old doll

 Don't know what to say

 Nobody I can call

I just couldn't focus

My world in a haze

 My world has no locus

 Stumble in a daze

~Cie~

Quadrilew

Created by C. G. V. Lewis, the Quadrilew is a form of quatrain poem with an abab rhyming scheme, repeating lines, and contains an alternating syllable structure.

In the first verse, the poet may either start with a five or six syllable line. If the choice is five then the 'sounding' syllable count is (and opposite if the count is six):

VERSE ONE,
Line 1, 5 syllables.
Line 2, 6 syllables.
Line 3, 5 syllables.
Line 4, 6 syllables.

VERSE TWO,
Line 1, (which is a REPEAT of line 2 of the FIRST verse) has 6 syllables.
Line 2 new line of 5 syllables
Line 3 new line of 6 syllables
Line 4 new line of 5 syllables.

VERSE THREE,
Line 1, (which is a REPEAT of line 3 of the first verse) has 5 syllables.
Line 2 new line of 6 syllables.
Line 3 new line of 5 syllables.
Line 4 new line of 6 syllables.

VERSE FOUR,
Line 1, (which is a REPEAT of line 4 of the first verse) has 6 syllables.
Line 2 new line of 5 syllables.
Line 3 new line of 6 syllables.
Line 4 new line of 5 syllables.

If the first line of verse one has 6 syllables then the pattern is
Verse 1, 6565,
Verse 2, 5656,
Verse 3, 6565,
Verse 4 5656: (the rhyme pattern still being abab.)

If wishing to create a longer poem then the next verse (5) must be a completely fresh set of four lines, these being used as before in the following three verses. Etcetera, etcetera.

Example:

Voice

Without one to hear
one may as well be dumb:
please, listen my Dear
as I give my thoughts tongue.

One may as well be dumb
if not allowed speech,
so now, leave your work, come
and I'll of love teach.

Please listen my Dear
to all that I impart
and you will see clear
to the love in my heart.

As I give my thoughts tongue
you will realise
that, if a song's not sung
more than the tune dies.

-- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Your love is the bow;
come, play this violin,
so the music flows:
the sweet pavane begins.

Come, play this violin
so in tune with you,
caress each trembling string;
draw each note so true.

So the music flows
beneath your loving hand,
slow the passion grows
to a crescendo grand.

The sweet pavane begins
with its gentle glide;
faster then the dance swings:
a tempestuous tide!

 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Now the music dies,
only echoes remain;
soft and loving sighs
say, we will dance again.

Only echoes remain
of those notes so high,
now there's a new refrain,
it's love's lullaby.

Soft and loving sighs,
no Tarantella thrill;
violin hushed, lies
quiet, the bow now is still.

Say we will dance again
my own Capella;
to the pavane's slow strain
and Tarantella.

Copyright © 2006 C. G. V. Lewis A.K.A. Salmagundi