Introduction to Prose:

Prose is written in spoken language that is not in verse form. Verse is a form of writing arranged in lines often with a regular rhythms or rhythm scheme; that is with sound effects. So, prose is plain writing of speech without pains taken to shape it into a definite form of structure.

Characteristics/Qualities of Prose

Prose is basically passages or pieces of writing that have some logical grammatical order and its ideas are connectedly stated rather than merely listed.

Prose writing is usually elaborate and detailed with sentences and paragraphs whose length and size vary from writer to writer according to the different styles and accompanying intentions.

The variety of expressions is brought out through the individual choice of words and also through sentence structure. Therefore,how much of the passage is understood by readers is determined by the author’s choice of words (diction) and expression.

The language of prose also varies from writer to writer. Sometimes, its archaic and difficult to understand. For example,Elizabeth and Shakespeare writers. Including Shakespeare himself. Others use very descriptive and vivid language as the writers of the Victorian era like George Owen, Charles Dickens, Thomas Hardy did; whose essays have very long sentences. The other prose writers use the 20th and 21st century era style and language that has no specific characteristics except that, the English is simple and simpler than the other, for example, African novelists like Ngugi wa Thiogo, Chinne Achebe, Okot B’bitek.

(Mistake not however the simple English for simplicity in the subject, they are as complex as any writer of any era is. I personally consider Wole Soyinka the 20th/21st Century Shakespeare.)

When I am but Lonely.

When I am but lonely,
In this years season
When trees are but naked,
The only sound being;
The gurgling of the River,
Whispering of wind,
Chipping of birds,
Whistling of Insects,
And creaking of this very
Lost leaves


Under my light feet
As I gently walk to rest
This light body with
A bulky soul
Laden by thought of you,
I regret every step
That brings me far, far from you
On this very gently rising landscape
Where the horizon so journeys undisturbed
All is grey.
As grey as my soul
Oh, How I wish to see green


As I lay and watch the dying
Warm Golden Sun,
That simmers over the horizon,
I wish you were here
Here by my side
When I am but lonely.


The primal youth

The virtues of youth in love
is but wax,
Their sexuality is but flames
of lust
That erupts like a volcano
Giving chase for a life dear.
Like a loaded fire-arm,
It explodes
Maddening the victim enough
To charge more and more
Without judgment.


The sealing wax melts
In the fire of the primal youth
And the fire then reigns no more
In this but a messy remain.
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Greetings, ladies and gentlemen! This blog is devoted to exploring the wonderful world of prose and poetry. I will avail you with deeper und...

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