Hear Ye. Hear Ye. Here we
propose to posit prose poetry,
forming forms of continuous connectivity
to communicate considerable
contemplative reflectivity.

Simply put, we pose this where
prose poetry is what you'll hear
when wondering where the time went
while reading such rhyme wonderments
as oft we've wrought, and revealed thusly;
each whit of wit written Hieronymously.

Picture This

Picture this:                             
                    Maybe. Perhaps. 
If reading results in a time lapse, 
then when you hear rhythmic word taps 
you bridge your gaps twixt each synapse. 

That's how we're hardwired, inherently. 
Reading words rhymed can apparently 
cause us minute mind explosions, 
as said rhymes reveal the notions 
that we base our future acts on, 
using our dendrites and axons. 

It's just simple super-symmetry, high energy related 
in a way that one could say's been telemetrically translated. 
As you see prose poetry, when read by heads, becomes a thing 
whereby the why before what lies in store presents events in strings. 
Now, since that sounds confusing, we'll be using this example 
to show how it's done, how rhymes can run. Pardon the pun-ish sample: 

"I’m both poetic genius, 
and prosaically savant. 
In terms of what transpires between us, 
most consider me piquant." 

That's a self-made observation from someone whose self says 'Hi', 
and simply shows a how relationship without explaining why, 
because, when Hi, to say why so relates might sound a bit old-fashioned, 
not unlike the why restated as The Fly wrote Ogden Nash on.