On Writing Poetry/The Sound of Poetry: By Eva Marie Cagley

Updated: Mar 24

Guest writer for "mynzdream" blog

Do you realize that poetry plays a sweet song of its own? A lot of poems do and are music to our ears when recited out loud. Do you hear a melody? It is the euphony of poetry. Eu-means good and phon-means sound or voice. Now there are different manners in which we write that can achieve this.

That’s why some poems are perfect for songs.

But you have to have the right amount of syllables in it and rhyme to make it work. Be consistent, follow your heart and listen for the melody, work on your stressed and unstressed syllables. A syllable is a pronunciation or a part of a word and usage of noun and vowel sounds: Characters representing a syllable. You can count them out.

For example, if I want the same amount of syllables in each line I count them.

She is just a person of the street - 8 syllables

With no home and nothing to eat- 8 syllables

And they rhyme! Now read those 2 lines out loud. Can you hear the euphony?

With rhyme, you identify sounds between words and endings of words. The rhythm is a flow of verse or prose determined by the length of stressed and unstressed syllables.

I had a couple of my poems picked out to be professionally read on a cassette called “THE SOUND OF POETRY “They chose my poems “Legacy of a Weeping Maple and Passing on the Street.” I will use them for examples here. I have many poems narrative on “The Poets Narrative” By Alan Johnson They can be found on YouTube…


She's just a person of the street

With no home and nothing to eat

Sitting there against the alley wall

I stop to wonder what caused her fall.

She looked somehow displaced

Adorned in purple velvet-out of place

On this hot august day

I stop to look away.

There I was staring again

At her purple velvet headband

Holding together her matted ebony hair

Please forgive me as I stare.

Such a youthful face-

Staring off into space

Looking around her at all

As a look of a child in awe!

She has no home-no family.

Where are the roots to her tree?

She travels along with the wind

Blowing in my direction again.

Like a floating autumn leaf

Reaching out from beneath

A bare tree standing alone

She has no place to call her own.

I was like all the rest that day

Hurrying along my way

Just a stranger passing on the street

And now she haunts my sleep!

She had no home-no place to sleep

I offered nothing-not a meal to eat

Now I'm empty-hungry-incomplete

Ashamed to be a stranger-

Passing on the street.


Oh, towering weeping maple

Massive beauties held within

Your folds of wisdom

Knowledge swaying in the wind.

Such an abundance of life

Once flourished rich with time

Now lay your broken branches

Scored by life and mankind.

Standing here a home less sanctuary

Once creatures lived within

Your hollow trunk now empty

Etched with time in the end.

Cremated in your prime

Spawning seeds blown into the wind

Containing your soul's shell

A sapling born again!

Now read them out loud, do you hear the euphony? With the right combination of rhyme and syllables, you have made a very beautiful rhythm. There’s nothing quite like the sound of poetry. Let me give just one more short fun sample. Now I don’t have the same amount of syllables in each line of this poem either but when read out loud can you hear the euphony?


Dawns breaking in the morning's dew

Nature’s orchestra playing at its queue

The woodpeckers beating to the rhythm in the hue

As the birds sing along tee-doo tee-do

The solo of an owl, ho-ho, ho-ho

Tree's standing ovation and the birds they flew...

That doesn’t mean your poetry won’t create a rhythm without the right amount of syllables. As you can see, I have some variance in mine. But I have found that these poems are the best read out loud. I write free verse and don’t believe a poem has to rhyme. They also sound beautiful when read. It’s up to each- individual what they want to write about and what venue.

But if you’re hearing music and a melody in your poetry, perhaps it’s meant to be a song or read out loud somewhere like “The Poets Narrative” found on Facebook. Featuring poets from around the world on THE WORLD COMES TO YOU found on youtube. Until next time happy Penning!

Poetry reaches into imprint your heart and soul… And remains within you longer than the trace of winters’ sparkling snow… More than just a fleeting image Dancing Visions of the purple butterflies…Once upon Lullabies… Leaving an impression within us like Your first-hand print in clay to be kept and treasured within…

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