My younger self definitely wrote a lot about poets and poetry…

Poetry must be laughing 

As she is drawn 

out of the closet 

Put on display 

in all her array

Her trinkets of song

beaded with rhyme

As she smiles

at the lines

caressing her eyes

In age old beauty of defiance

Poetry must be sated

with the phrases and clichés 

that define her movement 

with the homage

we pay her 

in all her adornment 

with the grace and skill

at which we trill

as birds in song

in a ritual dance

for without vying nor trying 

She is raised higher and higher 

on the pedestal we have placed her

Neither moth nor rust can eradicate her

Ravages of war do not humiliate her

Time and tide will not dissipate her

Men in scorn cannot degrade her

The loss of love does not erode her

Mind over matter cannot control her

For our very thoughts extol her

Poetry must be laughing 

November 2002 copyright reserved

I like the way 2002 ‘me’ wrote…