A poem I wrote thirty years ago. I suspect it might be a terza rima (someone might confirm or put me right). It was written at university when I was expected to conform to a certain degree. Never sure about writing poetry to form…but then I suppose writing rhyming quatrains is just another form. I suspect I just write what feels right to me.

WHITHER SAMARIA?

See him sat in the subway late at night;

Young man for whom the world is always grey,

Ignored by ev’ry priest and each levite.

Perhaps a silver piece, a widow’s mite

May help; but should a man alive today

Be found sat in a subway late at night?

Homo dejectus, concrete troglodyte;

Makes camp around a plastic cup this day,

Ignored by ev’ry priest and each levite

For robbers left this man in such a plight

His dignity and pride both torn away

Left him sat in a subway late at night.

Authority, officialdom, unite!

And help this man. It’s your fault that he’ll stay

Ignored by ev’ry priest and each levite

Pity this long ago dropped anchorite

For there but for the grace of God it may

Be you, sat in a subway late at night

Ignored by ev’ry priest and each levite.