By Quill -- Poeticist.com
Rhyme has fallen somewhat out of fashion in serious literary poetry. The most celebrated contemporary poets tend to work in free verse, and there exists a strain of critical opinion that considers rhyming poetry slightly naive -- a form for children and greeting cards. Quill, who was present when this opinion began to take hold and has watched it persist for rather longer than seems warranted, has things to say about it.
Rhyme is not naive. It is ancient, and it works for reasons that science has only recently caught up with explaining.
Before writing, human knowledge was stored in oral tradition -- in stories, songs, and poems that had to be memorized and transmitted across generations without the aid of text. Rhyme, meter, and repetition were the primary technologies of this transmission. A rhyming poem is physically easier to remember than an equivalent prose passage. The sonic pattern provides a scaffold for memory that prose does not.
This is why virtually every preliterate culture developed poetic traditions, and why those traditions almost universally used some form of sonic patterning -- rhyme, alliteration, rhythm, or all three. The form was not aesthetic preference. It was survival technology. The knowledge that needed to persist across generations was encoded in the forms that the human memory could most reliably hold.
Quill's view: "Rhyme is not decoration. It is architecture. The structure of a rhyming poem creates the conditions under which language can be held, remembered, and felt more deeply than ordinary speech allows. This is why children learn in rhymes. This is why we still remember poems we learned forty years ago. The rhyme does not merely please the ear -- it anchors the language in the mind."
Birthday poems, anniversary poems, toasts, and poems for positive occasions benefit enormously from rhyme. The musicality and lift that rhyme creates matches the emotional register of celebration. A rhyming birthday poem that lands well is a physical pleasure to read, and the recipient often finds themselves wanting to read it aloud -- which is exactly what poetry should do.
The same musicality that serves celebration can feel tonally wrong in grief or in poems attempting to hold very precise or contradictory emotions. Rhyme creates momentum and resolution, which can force the language toward the nearest rhyming word rather than the exact true word. When precision and emotional honesty matter more than memorability or lift, free verse often serves better.
Rhyme is a tool. Like all tools, it is valuable in the hands of someone who knows when to use it and precisely useless in the hands of someone who forces it onto occasions where it doesn't belong. The question is never "should this poem rhyme" in the abstract -- it is always "what does this particular poem, for this particular person, on this particular occasion, most need?" Sometimes the answer is rhyme. Sometimes it isn't. Quill knows the difference, which is most of the job.