The idea here, from Grace, was to make a try at at a different poetry form, Trolaan.
As per Grace’s prompt:
Trolaan, created by Valerie Peterson Brown, is a poem consisting of 4 quatrains. Each quatrain begins with the same letter. The rhyme scheme is abab for each quatrain.
Starting with the second stanza you use the second letter of the first line of the first stanza to write the second, each line beginning with that letter.
On the third stanza you will use the second letter on the first line of the second stanza and write the third each line beginning with that letter.
On the fourth stanza you will use the second letter on the first line of the third stanza and write the fourth each line beginning with that letter.
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So, I thought back here to my undergraduate days when I, and my friends, envisioned ourselves as writers, poets.
.
When We (I) Were Writers
We (I) were words at seeming will
Wrought with grand poetic intent
With a hubris of great writers of skill
Willing envied youth to supplement
.
Every piece was poring/pouring soul
Even knowing in my heart to avoid such a thing
Easy it was claim “soul” glorying to all my one unfounded old
Entreating “hearts” then even made me worse for sing
.
Vanity of but soul would make readers quake at my depth
Vowing to pen classics worthy of masters
Vacating a notion of things just, just things to be said
Venturing not into words that mattered
.
And I came about but in slow, still, revelation
Amid not the soul nor heart’s cliche but the every day
Aweing how sudden old wrought dramatic word made way for just, just simple observation
And that that, that simplest of thought, just might be the true soul say
Frankenberry's Attic 
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