TRAMMELLED TO TIMETABLES

I had to check online to that the title of this post's poem was correct, and it is. Apparently straight lines are a mathematical concept rather than a physical fact. It's another bus poem. Inspired by sitting on the top deck of buses as they bash their way through overhanging branches. 

THERE ARE NO STRAIGHT LINES IN NATURE

Buses hate trees

for trees are everything buses are not

growing as they will where they will

anchored as they are to just one spot

Given half an opportunity

a bus will punch its way through

intent on curbing their spread

aiming to impose a rigid geometry

Because buses are contained

forced to live regulated lives

forever trammelled to timetables

made to fulfil others expectations

Whereas trees don’t care

they were here yesterday

they will be here tomorrow

I've been working on this poem for about a week now. The rhyme in the first stanza happened by chance and I could not sustain it across the other three. If I consciously think about rhyme then the essence of the poem disappears. You'd think after writing for over fifty years now I'd have got the hang of it. It appears I have not. 

As I was pasting the poem the AI program offered to rewrite it for me:

Nature harbors no straight lines

Buses resent trees

for trees embody all that buses are not

sprouting freely, wherever they desire

rooted firmly in a single plot

Offer them the slightest chance

and buses will barrel through

determined to halt their wild growth

seeking to enforce a strict order anew

Buses are confined

bound to live by rules

eternally shackled to schedules

crafted to meet others' views

But trees remain indifferent

they stood long before today

and they'll stand long after, unfazed

Well, all I can say is thank you Copilot... Here's Boygenius. 

Until next time.