The poem below is a didactic poem, struggling bravely to find a rhythm. Facts take priority in these poems. The old name, didactic, means 'teaching'; poetry was a way of memorising facts, lists, recipes, any useful information.

My lines vary in length, and may have four or five metrical feet. The surplus quatrain destroys all ambition to pose as a sonnet.

THE BLUEPRINT

The sleeping future, safe from harm,
Packed tight in grain or nut or tiny seed
Till times propitious, faithful, like a charm
The sprout shall shoot, obedient to its breed.

The past, with all its failures and success,
Selection and adaptation, wisdom of centuries,
Encapsuled; every detail, dot or recess
Encoded and enclosed, protected from injuries.

Minute instructions, hidden, too small for sight,
Developed; in leaf and stalk and blossom and fruit
Revealed and recognised; reality packed so tight,
The self that can’t be denied, flows in the shoot.

Combining light and moisture, following its code,
Leaves spread in strength, then flowers, the crowning beauty,
Sweetness and scent and colour. As they fade
And admirers turn away, comes the final duty:

In its own grain, or nut, or tiny seed,
To transmit, for safety, the blueprint of its breed.