"English is so rhyme-poor that the same few pairs are always trying to get back in.

Keeping them out is part of the ingenuity."

I came accross this in Clive James's Poetry Notebook and it reminded me to post one of the poems I admire immensly. It was written by Yeats after many people questioned why he hadn't married when there were so many eligible young women around.

One had a lovely face,

And two or three had charm,

But charm and grace were vain

Because the mountain grass

Cannot but keep the form

Where the mountain hare has lain.

Of course the young woman he is referring to had married another. I imagine he spent some time rewriting this perfect poem. Putting some rhymes inside lines and finding 'charm' and 'form' or 'face' and 'grass' must have given him great pleasure. And to think of the nest of the hare is a stroke of genius.

Sometimes writing can be like sculpting or drawing where one has to give value to the space around and within as well as the lines or shapes.