The Old Man of Poet Spirit

Hello.  Just a poem I wrote the last four days or so.  What do you think of the poem?  Feel free to send any comments and critiques on how I can improve my art. How do you think pentameter would compare to this poem?  (I used iambic most of the time, but didn't constrict myself to pentameter - and I'm just wondering what makes pentameter so good....  I didn't follow any set line length and it still turned out pretty well...I think) (Any examples to prove your point in above will be appreciated) Thanks for all the help, and I hope my poem plays the music of your heart (or something ) Serdyn The Old Man of Poet Spirit             ================================                     Serdyn du Toit             ================================               (written 01/12/2001) A thirsting desert is my world; an uncreative place; one day no different from the rest. A shadow falls upon my world; and shrouds my face; the ember sands release their flaming breaths. So filled to discontent; I become possessed. Throughout the night, winds wail, and moons cry, Subsiding to most gentle breeze, tugging at my soul; An icy embrace!  And when breath is drawn,  my sole decry! No more the silent air moves; but this leaf, shuddering from hollow heart cleft, I console. I rise to verdant hills, of beauty tinged with fear. The petty flowers rake my knees, and fickle hearts decay; thorn-lipped grass to unpassioned blood adhere, and rancorous weeds sow seeds of discontent. Now feeds on gentle heart...  A butterfly goes astray. This thorny throe I escape, to then meet a fragile man; so bent upon his knee.  Solemn eyes, and beating heart spoke my name.  Within his parched throat, no sound has began. I grabbed the poet spirit from his pulsing soul: and truth and tempests, became most sought allies. -=THE END=- Written December 1st, 2001 © on Dec 01 2001 08:18 AM PST   18 • 0 • 12