abab to aabb

Many-a-times I sought,
An ear made for some splendid rhyme
Begged I; battles fought,
Luck did not favour, neither did time

I asked the long bearded scholar,
Who lived on the far away tree,
"Read this " said he, "and don't take forever,
Unlock it will the wings of poesy."

I next asked the home-maker
"Lift this stone," she said "lighten that broth
Chaff this wheat, clean this litter,
Churn my milk and collect it's froth."

Read I those bits of paper
Ran fast as I could
Nothing came out of that litter
Remained I unmoved as a log of wood

I in desperation asked a man of 60
Far away from the heart of genteel society
"Come hither," muttered he, "keep me company
And I will tell you the words that make epiphany."

"Tell me of this world,
For I am deaf and I am blind.
Tel  me of your quest,
For I am mad and I need to rest."

Told I of the whisperings of morning winter,
Of the bouncing off of lights on water.
Told I of the hope in neighbour's eyes,
Of the love that outpours siblings fights.
Told I of the clouds that shape the sky,
Of the charms that save from eyes which pry.

Of the boats of paper
And the fancy of forever,
Of the ships drowning in storm
And the wriggle of an eager worm;
Of arthritis sitting in grandma's knees
And the victory of the town's football teams;
Of the stars that move in the skies
And the rising onion price;
Of the smells around a white lily
And what for the bride they prophecy;
Of the fears of children at dusk
And the demons in voices' husk;
Of the difficulties of Indian life
And the changing roles of man and wife.

A month passed like this
Unknowing if this for my sake was or his
Awoke I after days 30,
Nowhere was my man of 60.
Saw though I, what on my left hand lay,
A pen and paper for an year's each day,
"Look around," wrote he, "fill your senses
Worry never about their uses;
Feel every feeling, control not your Time
And you may just receive the ear for Rhyme."