Inspired by Henry Lennox's proposal to Margaret in North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell.
This poem is unfinished. Here are my drafts hitherto and my analysis at the end.

Draft 1: My jottings.

If when you walk through
The lonely, cold passage that is an unloved life
You stop to hope
To trust, to unlock
To tug at the rusted, heavy doors of the most precious chamber

If you dare to hack at the tangles
The roots and the dirt that crust over the key
And stammer, uncertain, your heart's thoughts to me-

Draft 2: It needs more description of the terrors of a lonely life.

If when you walk through
The lonely, cold passage that is an unloved life
The frigid December with overcast skies
Of unfriendly wind, biting, howling its rages
Your sloshing and gasping through wet, heaving seas

If you dare to hack at the tangles
The roots and the dirt that crust over the key
And stammer, uncertain, your heart's thoughts to me-

Draft 3: I decide to go with the the sea analogy and to rhyme.

If on your journey you witness a traveler
A fellow struggler bobbing on the sea
And cautious observation allows you to see
Glimpses of a mind that's akin to thee-

Draft 4: I decide that I need a lot more exposition of the lonely life to build up to the relief of finding someone.
I also end up with a questionably lyrical AAAA/ABBB rhyme scheme and a certainly unlyrical syllable count of 11 per line.

If when on the coastline you trudge and you shove
The frigid December that is life unloved
The biting and howling and scowling above
The trekking alone through the snow numb as doves

If when you slog through the deep murky waters
And gasping, plunge into the depths of the sea
And there, midst your struggles, you think that you see
A fellow sojourner, who'd drown, just like thee

If while you flounder, hit water with flails
Desperately tread to keep head above gales
You think that your fellow cries just the same wails
Seeks the same harbor with just the same sails

And if you both hearken and kick to the same land
The same lonely island of paradise lost
The safe home of childhood which growing up cost
Now buried in snowdrifts and covered with frost

If you both manage to clutch to the sharp edge
And heave your wet body up onto the high hedge
And lying there gasping, to hear your own heart's pledge
That wakens the dormant and stirs up the dredge

If then you turn your head, daring to question
Daring to wonder and of the truth ask (10!)
To hope, to aspire, and set at the task
To chip at the cover, and chip at the mask

If when you dare to brute hack at the tangles
That twist round your heart in obtrusive angles
The heart that was hitherto slashed and mangled
And covered with moss, and with dry rust spangled
​
(Here I gave up on my meter)
If then you're brave and pry, pull at your twist lock
If you can open your poor heart to me
I'll come and accept it, no gift could be better
Than sweetest of feelings, your inner beliefs-

​Reasons I am unhappy with this poem:

1. The AAAA/ABBB rhyme scheme is not lyrical.
2. The 11 syllables per line don't roll well line after line.
3. The words are forced into unnatural stresses.
4. There is too many expository paragraphs per relief paragraphs.
5. There are two metaphors: the ocean, and the tangled briars round the heart. Pick one.

​What I will do:
Rewrite it.



​May 15, 2016

Photo credits:
Brent Pearson