The inspiration for my very first ottava rima (and my last?) is occurring right now and I probably should be powering down rather than typing on, and I can hear people I know say: she just doesn’t show good sense.
While I consider myself a writer, I don’t totally consider myself a poet. I love words and I love the possibility of the musicality of words when rhythm and wordplay exist. However, when words like iambs and feet and meter come up, I, for some reason, hear white noise. I’m still hoping to grow out of it.