Phew! Long day today. Very long. And not over yet, as I’ve still much work to do. The day 8 prompt invites us to
try writing in ottava rima — an Italian form that, in English, usually takes the form of an eight-line stanza of iambic pentameter, with a rhyme scheme of a-b-a-b-a-b-c-c.
I can’t think anymore, I can barely write, all my creativity has gone into my academic efforts of the day, so take this as an exercise in form.
In sparring steps we climb towards the sky,
Our temples taut with searing thoughts of flight.
We climb forever up towards the eye
That, dark with so much need, still gave us bright,
Melodic aches to feed on in our dry,
Obedient delight. And so, tonight
We sharpen bone on bone as high we must
Ascend, to places where we shed our rust.
Hallelujah! I’m glad I managed as much!